


Better Than Coffee

by ds9trekkie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Boys Kissing, Bunker Sex, Character Death, Coffee, Come Eating, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dorks, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Healing, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Husbands, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, Men of Letters Bunker, Mirror Sex, Oral Sex, Platonic Destiel, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Sastiel - Freeform, Smut, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-22 17:19:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9617585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ds9trekkie/pseuds/ds9trekkie
Summary: Dean is gone, for real this time. And for years afterwards, Sam and Castiel struggle to pick up the pieces of their lives. Grieving and journeying through the healing process together, they help each other learn to love themselves again.





	1. Broken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wayward_Daughter_16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Daughter_16/gifts).



> First time writing Sastiel, hope I did alright! Warning: Sam and Castiel go through some serious self worth issues at the beginning, but don't worry it has a happy ending. There's a MAJOR amounts of angst and Dean is dead under the premise that Crowley killed him when he was a demon. Also, Cas is newly human. P.S. Coffee has always been very therapeutic for me, hence the theme! Enjoy!

_How do you find the strength to care for someone, when you're not in a position to care for yourself?_

Castiel doesn't know.

However, Castiel _does_ know he has to try, because currently, there's only one person more broken than him, and that's Sam.

Sam Winchester deserves to be cared for, he deserves somebody reliable by his side, somebody who won't fail him. 

Castiel wants to be that person. 

However, in the past, he's failed so often that he can't remember what success feels like anymore. It's to the point that even the smallest victories, mainly involving self care, feel unattainable. Castiel has failed Heaven, he's failed himself, but worst of all, he's failed to protect the people he values most. He's failed Dean.

But Castiel is _not_ going to fail Sam.

He can't remember how things became this messy. Castiel's long life rapidly snowballing into something almost satirical over the past few years. It feels so long ago that he was a _warrior,_ that he had a clear head with specific goals. Recently, life revolves solely around _surviving._ Surviving, while simultaneously running himself ragged trying to do 'the right thing'. One noble endeavor almost always leading to the next disaster. Castiel's been digging his grave deeper and deeper with every wrong choice.

Castiel can't remember how to laugh, to _smile_. Jimmy, his vessel, has experienced it many times in the past, so he knows the mechanics, but to think he could ever feel the joy required to do either of those things again is a cruel joke. 

What was he even fighting for originally? Maybe at first it was for Heaven and Hell to be balanced, to achieve some sort of peace, but now everything is horribly blurred. Emotions he never asked for are continually in the way. He feels smothered.

He's lost his best friend. Dean is gone, the Righteous Man's beautiful soul twisted into something demonic before being destroyed in the worst way possible. And Crowley, had the nerve to claim it was self defense after he gutted Dean with that awful First Blade. Castiel was just a little too slow, a little too weak, a little too _late._

He couldn't save him.

Even if Castiel were to somehow retrieve his Grace, there's no recovering what happened to the older Winchester. There's nothing left to salvage. But that doesn't mean Castiel, human and helpless, can't hate himself for it, and it certainly doesn't mean he can't blame himself for it.

A part of Castiel hungers for revenge, to rip Crowley limb from limb, slice him into pieces with the very weapon that took his Dean away. But then he remembers that none of it matters. Dean is still dead. Castiel wishes he could join him, but he's even too weak to end his own miserable existence.

Dean is to be burned today. A hunter's funeral. Exactly what he would have wanted. Cold and detached, Castiel makes the preparations alone. Once he's completely ready he seeks out Sam, finding him easily. Sam doesn't voluntarily leave his bedroom anymore.

The door is already open and Castiel can see Sam laying face down on top of the rumpled covers. Feet hanging lazily off the edge of the bed and an empty bottle in hand, the hunters glassy eyes remain open. Castiel walks inside, squatting to his knees so his face is level with Sam's.

"Sam, I-"

Castiel suddenly can't find his voice.

_I'm sorry? I'm ready? It's time? Dean's waiting?_

Sam makes no attempt to move, however, his eyes twitch in Castiel's direction, acknowledging his presence. 

"Please, Cas...can we-" Sam interrupts himself with a violent hiccup, "bury him instead? 'S not too late..." Sam slurs, a single tear welling up at the corner of his eye, until the pool becomes too large and spills over.

As much as Castiel would love to hold onto the 'what if', this time is different. Dean must rest now, and they owe him a proper send off. Castiel doesn't reply verbally, he simply shakes his head and sweetly wipes his thumb over Sam's tear track. More silent tears leave Sam's eyes as he allows himself to be maneuvered into a sitting position.

Castiel carefully removes the whiskey bottle from Sam's loose grip, forcing his shaking hand in there instead. Trying to convey what little strength he has left, Castiel gives Sam's hand a firm squeeze, an ounce of encouragement.

They can get through this. Together.

Castiel carries Dean's limp body in his arms, the task wordlessly passed off to him because Sam is too incoherent to do it himself. He gently places the heavy, dead weight of his friend down on the pyre, before reluctantly lighting up the base. It's an agonizingly long process that illogically feels like it'll never end.

Dean is concealed, completely wrapped up by Castiel's own handiwork. Seconds before the flames engulf him, Castiel feels desperate to see Dean one more time. He has to stop himself from recklessly lunging into the fire to prevent the irreversible. Every instinct in Castiel's body screams 'protect Sam and Dean,' therefore allowing this to happen feels _wrong_. 

Only the two of them are present. The power of three stolen from them prematurely. Sam and Castiel only have each other now. That fact has never been more clear, never more _lonely_. All of Sam's family and most of his friends have passed, and Castiel definitely doesn't belong in Heaven anymore. Standing there together, they force themselves to celebrate all of the _good_ their Dean did throughout his lifetime. Castiel thinks the autumn breeze would have been nice, had it been any other day. 

The remains of Castiel's heart finally shatter when Sam begins to cry. It's not sporadic, quiet tears leaking down Sam's face anymore. This is _wailing_. Sam's mental pain fully exposed to the physical world, unable to be contained any longer. The sobs seem to be mocking Castiel, the torturous sounds replaying on a loop inside his head.

It's haunting.

Castiel makes sure to catch Sam as he falls. With only the soft, damp earth below them, Castiel shields him. A meager attempt at protecting him. He holds the hunter as tight as possible, unconsciously petting his dirty hair and whispering comforting lies into his ear. And despite Sam's larger than average size, Sam feels incredibly small nestled in Castiel's arms, so vulnerable as he clings on, yelling shamelessly for his brother.

In the fucked up world of the Winchesters, a body means hope. And as they literally watch the last shred of their hope burn away, death has never felt more _permanent_. Castiel grounds them, focusing on remaining in control of the chaos around him.

He has no choice.

Even after eons of waging war and dealing with unimaginable brutality, nothing will ever compare to this pain. The pain of losing Dean, the pain of vicariously experiencing Sam's suffering. Irrational maybe, but Castiel is sure this is the worst day of his life.

Once they're inside again, Castiel guides Sam back into his bed, taking off the hunter's muddy shoes and covering him up affectionately with the blanket. Castiel waits. He sits patiently on the edge of the mattress, wanting to make sure Sam's truly asleep before leaving his side. 

Castiel wishes he had his Grace, his wings. He wants to ensconce Sam safely inside them, keep him warm and safe. The urge to protect and heal this man is absolutely overwhelming. But he can't. Not anymore. 

Castiel doesn't know what to do now. He should retire to his own bedroom and sleep, but he doesn't want to. All he wants to do is somehow feel close to Dean again. That's how he ends up in Dean's bedroom.

As soon as he enters, Castiel begins pacing anxiously, just looking, not touching. Everything in here is so purely _Dean_ , between his weapons lined neatly on the wall, his poorly hidden pornography, the family photos on the night stand, an empty whiskey tumbler left on the dresser, a plate tossed in the trash can coated with tiny pie crumbs. Everything is completely untouched, ever since he last resided here. Castiel can practically still _smell_ him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He stops and stares at his reflection, narrowing his attention on the ruined remains of his once beloved trench coat. He hates it now. Anger boils inside him as it reminds him of who he was, and who he can no longer be. Castiel begins stripping, peeling off each layer with an eerie calmness.

His clothes end up in a heap on the floor, the broken angel completely naked now, one of the rare times his vessel has been so exposed. Castiel studies himself, scrutinizing every inch, feeling an unfamiliar heat prickle behind his eyelids. As his anger fades, a rush of sadness takes over. Castiel doesn't recognize himself anymore. 

Knowing that remaining nude is probably unacceptable, he brainstorms about what he is going to wear. Personal preference aside, the trench coat ensemble is simply too dirty to put back on. His thoughts drift back to Dean, all of his clothes are here.

_Right here._

Castiel doesn't let himself think too much as he emotionlessly opens the drawer, pulling out a plain black tee and an old pair of flannel pants. Foreign hands slip the fabric over his skin on auto pilot. He immediately moves over to the bed, collapsing on top of it and hiding his face deep within the pillow. Curling up as small as he can, Castiel lays there succumbing to his nervous breakdown, feeling the loss of _Dean_ all around him.

Ridiculously, Castiel has a new thought. Is he in love with Dean? Is this what love feels like? He wouldn't know, but he doesn't think so. Dean was his brother. Castiel internally flinches at the word 'was,' Dean _is_ his brother. Life or death, that fact will never change.

The minutes continue ticking by before Castiel realizes he's crying, sobbing actually. He's never cried before. Castiel pictures Sam all alone in the other room. The ex-angel finds himself feebly praying to an absent father, asking that Sam Winchester be okay. Because if he could, Castiel would take away all of Sam's hurt in an instant, more than willing to put it all on himself instead.

Wouldn't be the first time.

Unable to stay awake a second longer, exhaustion gets the better of Castiel. Big blue eyes, stained ugly with redness, finally droop shut.

Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow Castiel is going to heal Sam with the only resources he has left. And the next day, and every day after that. Castiel is not going to fail again, not Sam and not _himself._

~

Sam isn't functioning.

His body lurches forward, sitting up and panting with panic. He can't see straight, everything's spinning. He's sweating, the shirt he's wearing is soaked all the way through. He can't breathe. It's dark. He's scared.

Dean is dead.

"CAS!" 

It's hard to yell, but he does it anyway, because the alternative is worse. Sam cannot be alone right now.

Still shouting aimlessly for Castiel, Sam stands up and rips off his drenched tee. He stumbles over to the light switch, regretting the decision immediately. The brightness in the room is _blinding._ He tries to switch it back off, but misses, tripping over something. Probably his shoe. 

He's still fucking drunk.

Sam's poisoned himself. He's never treated his body this poorly, aside from the demon blood addiction, and he probably requires medical attention. Oh, well.

"Cas! Cas..." It's the only word can muster.

There's a glass of water on the night stand. _Thanks, Cas._ Taking his time, he grabs at it as steadily as he can, downing the glass in one gulp.

Another bad idea.

"Cas," he whispers one last time, attempting to hold back the puke.

Running towards the bathroom, Sam knocks down half the shit in his path, making it just time time. All the water he just chugged goes straight into the bowl. The tile floor feels like ice and he's shaking.

_Look what you've done to me, Dean._

Two large, calloused hands land welcomingly on his back, rubbing soothing circles. He feels Castiel press close as he empties himself. Sam knows he's absolutely disgusting right now. It's been at least four days since his last shower, he's sweating uncontrollably and vomiting up everything inside him until there's nothing left. Great, now he's dry heaving.

Fortunately, Castiel really is an angel, not caring about Sam's physical state, only concerned for his mental one. Plus, Sam's too fucked up to feel embarrassed.

"Sam, it's alright," Castiel says soothingly. 

Castiel's hands are in Sam's hair now, massaging his scalp and tucking some of the greasy strands behind his ear. He moves closer.

Sam is eternally grateful, because as horrible as this moment is, it's a little bit better knowing Castiel is here with him. Castiel came to him and stayed with him. He didn't leave him alone.

Believing it finally safe to lift his head, Sam sits back and spins the roll of toilet paper, tearing a long ribbon off of it to wipe his mouth. Sam turns his attention to the man beside him, and what he sees almost makes him throw up again.

Castiel is _devastated._

He's been crying, his normally beautiful eyes swollen beyond recognition. Sam hates this. He doesn't want Castiel hurting this badly too. He wishes he could take it all on himself.

"Fuck, Cas..." Sam sighs, cradling his face between both of his giant hands.

Sam manically wipes away what tears he can before pulling him into a hug. Castiel melts against him instinctively, breathing deeply.

Has anyone ever held him like this? Has anyone ever _taken care_ of Castiel? Sam can't think of a single time. 

He uses one hand to thread his fingers through Castiel's already messy hair, while the other roams up and down his back. Sam is most likely crushing him, but Castiel doesn't seem to mind. Before long, Castiel is practically purring against him, his face resting in the crook of Sam's neck, content to never move again.

Sam vows to himself that Castiel will never feel like this again. Everyone deserves to feel loved and wanted, not just needed for a purpose. Especially, his angel.

Suddenly, Sam realizes these are not Castiel's clothes. He only owns one outfit. An outfit that he can't magically clean anymore.

_Fuck._

"Cas, are these... _his_ clothes?" Sam asks, his voice quivering. He hates how pathetic he sounds, couldn't even bring himself to say his brother's name out loud. 

Castiel tries to pull away, "Y-yes, I'm sorry, I didn't have anything-- I'll put them back..."

"Shhh," Sam only holds him tighter, not allowing him to escape. "Don't apologize. It's my fault, I should have given you some of mine. I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry."

The amount of guilt and self hate clouding this bathroom is almost laughable. Both men blaming themselves entirely for their current situation.

Silence surrounds them for a long time. Sam doesn't know what's next, but he definitely doesn't want to stop being near Castiel. 

"Cas, don't...don't leave me."

Castiel's deep voice rumbles against Sam's chest, feeling the words as he says them. "Even if I had elsewhere to go...Sam, I don't want to leave you."

Maybe it's because he's still pretty drunk, or maybe it's not, "I meant tonight. Sleep next to me...please."

Castiel stiffens. Sam panics, he fucked up, scared him off. Then Castiel relaxes again and says, "I'd like that."

Castiel looks appreciative when Sam gives him a pair of his own pajamas, and he could swear he saw Castiel attempt a small smile. Sam crawls back into bed, waiting for Castiel to join him. He's facing away from him, but Sam can hear the soft sounds of Castiel changing. Darkness fills the room as Castiel slips beneath the sheets next to him.

A few almost awkward moments pass by, but then Castiel scoots closer, spooning his body around Sam's. It's too intimate for normal friends, Sam being shirtless, Castiel wearing his clothes. The tiny puffs of Castiel's breath ghosting over the base of Sam's neck. Every inch of Castiel's front glued to Sam's back. But since when has anything Sam's ever done before been normal?

They both sleep undisturbed for the rest of the night.


	2. Small Victories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roughly a year after Dean died.

_Coffee._

Familiar and glorious, a smell Castiel could wake up to every morning and never get sick of. Besides being the perfect beverage, coffee has another meaning for Castiel. It means Sam. 

It's a fairly new routine for them, but every morning Sam wakes up first and brings Castiel a cup of coffee to his room. Sam takes his black, but he makes sure that Castiel's is loaded up with a generous amount of milk and sugar, just the way he likes it. For some reason, it always tastes better when Sam makes it. Castiel looks forward to this ritual much more than he lets on, enjoying Sam's company more with each passing day.

Slowly, Castiel has learned that _time_ is the one true medicine, for both of them, because recently things have begun to lighten up. Almost an entire year later, and Castiel feels as if he can breathe a little easier. Each day is still a challenge, each minute even, but it feels good to simply _win_ sometimes.

Coffee in bed together, that's a win.

Sam doesn't knock anymore, maybe that's weird but Castiel doesn't mind, he likes being this comfortable with another person. He hears the door hinge creak as Sam enters, that wonderful smell intensifying. Castiel pretends to be asleep. He always does.

The edge of the bed dips down with Sam's weight and Castiel hears the soft thud of a mug landing on the nightstand. Castiel hums sweetly when he feels Sam's free hand brush gently through his hair. Sam knows he awake. He always does.

"Smells good..."

"You say that every morning," Sam says calmly, removing his hand.

Castiel nearly whines at the loss of contact. When Castiel opens his eyes and sits up, he notices Sam staring at him. There's something refreshing happening on his face.

Sam is smiling.

Instinctively, Castiel smiles back at him and it feels _amazing._ But as quickly as the moment starts, its suddenly over. Sam's face is wiped clean, appearing guilty. Then it hits Castiel too, they slipped up.

 _Dean is dead and your smiling? How dare you. Did you ever really care about him?_

These dark thoughts pass through Castiel's head within seconds, his eyes never leaving Sam's. Castiel wishes he could say something helpful.

He tries, "Sam, you're allowed to be happy..."

Sam looks like he wants to believe him, the internal struggle written all over his face, "No, Cas, I'm not."

Castiel is about to argue, about to tell Sam he has to move on and put himself first for once. 

_Hypocrite._

Castiel chokes the words back, knowing they're useless without meaning behind them. Sam retreats from him, standing up and turning for the door.

"Enjoy your coffee," Sam murmurs, exiting the room.

Castiel flashes back to the night they burned Dean. Anger, sadness, loneliness, tears. It all swirls inside his brain at lightning speed, and then nothing. He feels nothing. Flopping back down onto the pillow, Castiel pulls the covers up to his chin. Despite it's potency, he can't smell the coffee anymore.

~

A few more months pass by while Sam and Castiel try to rebuild all the progress they made before their unexpected set back. It's a very similar morning when Sam enters Castiel's room, coffee in hand.

Castiel remains still, listening to Sam place the drinks down beside the bed. However, what he does next is a total surprise, tearing down the unspoken rules of their routine. Sam lays down with him, his only face inches away from Castiel's. 

"I know you're awake," he whispers, shifting his body to get more comfortable. "Why do you always pretend you're not?"

Castiel decides to peek his eyes open slightly. Sam is much closer than he thought. 

"I don't like mornings. Sleep is very nice, but waking up is...unpleasant. I guess...I just like the way you wake me up..." Castiel admits shyly. 

_I like the way you touch my hair sometimes,_ Castiel thinks, but doesn't dare say out loud.

Sam is studying him, taking in Castiel's explanation. "Well, I love mornings...so I guess it works out," he says finally, his eyes are warm and open.

Castiel thinks he's beautiful.

After a few more moments, the silence gets the better of them. They sit up, grab their mugs and sip in unison.

For Sam and Castiel, mornings are leisurely. Sometimes spending up to an hour just small talking over nonsense while they drink. Other times, they don't talk at all, they don't need to. Serenity spreads through Castiel whenever he remembers the fact that Sam can overload his senses without verbal communication. Castiel's eyes take in the landscape of Sam's body, his ears listen to the musical sounds of Sam's breathing, and his mouth drinks in the addictive liquid Sam made just for him.

Today, Castiel can tell that Sam wants to talk.

"I wanna do something a little different today. And uh, I was wondering if you wanted to join me," Sam says nervously.

Castiel would do anything for him.

"What do you have in mind?" Castiel asks, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

As if he's afraid of changing his mind, Sam spits everything out quickly, "I miss eating, like healthy eating...I was thinking that we could go out to the store and pick up some stuff. Plus, I know you're still kinda new to food so, I don't know, maybe you could try some new things. If you want."

Sam sighs, leaving Castiel somewhat in shock. Sam wants to _go out_ , he wants to be _healthy_ , he wants _Castiel_ to go with him. 

Ever since Dean, Sam rarely leaves the Bunker. It's true that his high consumption of alcohol and erratic sleeping habits have both improved, but he still never goes out if he can help it.

Long ago, Sam taught Castiel how to order food and shop online, informing the ex-angel on what foods will keep a person alive. Castiel goes out occasionally, trying to find something different, something _better_ , but he always misses the mark. Apparently, steak with peanut butter is not allowed. Most days, Sam doesn't eat anything anyway.

Sam doesn't hunt anymore either, not without his brother. And Castiel doesn't blame him, he _understands_. They don't talk about hunting. Nothing bothers them within the safety of the Bunker, the supernatural world seemingly put on hold.

"I'd love to go with you."

Sam smiles weakly, "Really?"

"Yes," Castiel chances a smile back. It doesn't hurt as bad this time.

~

Sam and Castiel get dressed quickly, agreeing to meet in the garage. Castiel arrives first, his wandering eyes trying to avoid noticing something that always makes his heart clench.

The Impala.

So much more than a car, she's the Winchester's first true home. Castiel finds it impossible to look at her and not see Dean. Sitting confidently in the drivers seat, on his back fixing something, digging through the trunk for a weapon.

Memories are strange. How can thinking about something that once brought him comfort and contentment make him so sad now? These confusing feelings only make Castiel respect humans more. Being forced to live through something is so very different than observing it from afar.

Front window rolled all the way down, keys placed carefully on the seat, the Impala sits frozen in time. She's lost without her partner. Castiel wonders if maybe they should have burned her too.

Sam enters the garage, walking briskly, he doesn't look around. His eyes are wisely focused on the specific car near the front that Castiel usually drives. He slides inside and starts the ignition. 

"Cas, you comin'?" Sam calls, his voice echoing.

Castiel is happy to see Sam wants to drive, having been solely a passenger for over a year. "Of course," Castiel replies, opening the door to sit beside him.

Sam begins driving and the two men sit in silence. Looking around the interior of the car, Castiel sees the radio and wishes he could turn it on. It has nothing to do with the silence surrounding them, if anything Castiel finds silence soothing, especially with Sam. But he's always curious to hear different styles of music, wanting to find a favorite of his own. However, Castiel stops himself, Sam doesn't like music. Whenever some happens to be playing, the ex-hunter always shuts it off immediately.

~

About twenty minutes go by before they reach their destination, the drive peaceful. Upon entering the store, Castiel lets Sam take the lead, not knowing where to begin or what to buy. Sam grabs a cart and they begin pacing up and down the aisles.

As interesting as most of these products are, Castiel is mostly watching Sam instead. For some reason he can't take his eyes off him. Sam is chattering away, placing items down in the cart, explaining everything to Castiel. And Castiel is trying to listen, he really is, but Sam's positive body language has him completely distracted.

Suddenly, the ground is slipping away, Castiel is falling and crashing into something. Landing on his back, multiple items topple on top of him. Castiel shuts his eyes instinctively, but he hears something that makes them pop back open.

Sam is laughing.

Although Castiel has heard Sam laugh many times before, this time he thinks it's the most beautiful sound in the world. It's loud, _booming_ laughter that reignites Castiel's dormant soul. 

Castiel realizes the items on top of him are cereal boxes, he must have knocked over an entire display. His back aches slightly and he feels a cold wetness seep into his shirt. There's a 'caution wet floor' sign not two feet away from him.

But none of it matters, because Sam is still laughing as he bends over to help Castiel up. He allows himself to be scooped up into Sam's steady grip, giving in and laughing along with him. 

"Dude, you okay?" Sam struggles to say seriously.

"I am uninjured," Castiel assures him, not pulling away from the protective way Sam is holding him. 

"I can't believe that just happened. That's like-- like something out of a cartoon!" Sam chuckles lightly, fussing over straightening Castiel's clothes. Castiel does nothing to stop him, he's too busy staring at Sam again. The usual burden behind his eyes are now filled with happiness, silliness, and so many other refreshing emotions. 

A scary thing happens next, Castiel wants to kiss him. He wants to lean forward a few inches and press his lips to Sam's smiling ones. He wants to swallow up those precious sounds he making and store them away. 

Castiel knows this urge is different than when he kissed Meg all those years ago. At that time, he was simply riddled with curiosity and frustration. Right now, here with Sam, Castiel feels only _love._

"Cas? Cas!"

Sam is practically shouting in his face, shaking him gently. Castiel is just looking up at him stupidly. 

"Yes?" 

How long has he been gawking at Sam? Apparently, too long because people are beginning to gather around them.

"You sure you're okay? Did you hit your head?" Sam says, voice full of concern now.

Large hands tangle their way into Castiel's hair, probably checking for cuts or bumps. Sam has touched him plenty before, but it's never affected Castiel _this way_ before. Now it's as if Castiel is hyper aware, his body reacting to every inch of Sam that comes in contact with him. Castiel literally can't make words come out of his mouth. This strange new power Sam has over him is terrifying.

Sam's gaze is heavy, searching Castiel's panicked expression for the truth. Castiel wants to run and hide, yet at the same time he _needs_ to stay. 

"Oh no! My boss is gonna kill me!" A squeaky voice says, beginning to clean up the mess Castiel made.

Sam and Castiel jolt apart, turning to face the young employee. She looks extremely stressed as she reorganizes the scattered cereal boxes, desperately attempting to stack them back into their original ridiculous position.

"It's okay, we'll help," Sam offers, picking up a few boxes. Castiel notices Sam's face reddening, 

"I'm sorry, it was an accident..." Castiel's brain produces without any real thought. He follows suit, his physical body cleaning and stacking while his mind continues racing, _Sam, Sam, Sam._

Overall, their day is a success. The two of them stock up on enough food to enjoy and experiment with for a couple weeks. They cook together that night, spending hours creating a delicious meal that leaves them both more than satisfied. 

Later that evening, Castiel lays in bed petrified over a certain thought he can't seem to push away. His sanity on the line as he tosses and turns for half the night, Castiel finally allows himself to accept it. He's in love with Sam Winchester.


	3. Run With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I shamelessly made a reference to Misha's amazing knitting ^_^ Also, it's been a year an a half since Dean.

It's too early. Sam knows Castiel would not be a happy camper if he barged through the door with coffee at five thirty in the morning. Unfortunately, sleep isn't an option for Sam at he moment, so he sits at the table in the library and tries to think of something to do.

It's been about a year and a half since Dean left him. Eighteen months of excruciatingly slow healing and he still misses his big brother. Sam is sure that Dean would be angry with the way he's been acting. Dean's entire life had revolved around making sure that Sam was safe and happy. Self destruction seems like a pretty poor way to repay him.

After quickly scarfing down his egg white omelette, Sam forces himself to do the task he's been dreading for months.

Sam's going to finally clean out Dean's bedroom.

As he approaches that forbidden area of the Bunker he swore he'd never go again, Sam feels sick. He expected this, but still it _sucks_. Sam stops walking and thinks of something to motivate him. He thinks of Castiel, bright blue eyes giving him the strength to carry on.

Opening the door is the hardest part. But he does it. Once inside, Sam takes a deep breath and gets to work. First, he strips the bed and takes out the trash. Next, he gathers up both the family photos and skin mags, planning on storing them safely in a box. Finally, Sam sorts through Dean's clothes, majority down for donation and a few to keep. Dad's freakin' leather jacket in the 'keep' pile. 

Sam stares at the sack he plans to donate, it's pretty small. Dean didn't have much. Growing up the way they did, Sam knows the importance of second hand clothes. He hopes someone will get good use out of this stuff. Another little part of Dean that lives on.

It takes Sam an hour to accomplish all that. And an hour is how long it takes for his composure to slip. He's crying again. Just enough to make his eyes wet and his face burn hot. He pulls himself together, not allowing the negativity to creep in. Once he's calmed down, he takes a deep breath and feels proud of what he did.

Suddenly, he wants to _run_ , not run away, just run like he used to. He hasn't exercised in ages and he feels like shit. Sam decides to take his chances with grumpy morning Cas and wake up him up. Maybe Castiel will run with him.

~

Sam enters Castiel's room quietly, the ex-angel laying on his back and sleeping heavily. Upon seeing him, Sam's mind begins racing again. Sam wants nothing more than to crawl into that bed and wrap his arms around Castiel's sleepy, pliant body. He wants to lay his head on Castiel's chest and listen to his newly human heart beat. Sam imagines it would be the only sound tranquil enough to lull him back to sleep. But there's a tiny nagging part of Sam, a part he's beginning to resent, that is telling him to cut the shit.

_Castiel doesn't want you like that._

The mental cycle is only complete when Sam chalks it off as loneliness. Pure and simple, Sam just wants _someone_ and Castiel happens to be the easiest option available. 

_Lair._

Denial be damned, he knows Castiel means more than that. Sam wishes he could muster up the courage to just tell the guy, but the consequence of rejection is too great. Castiel has become his rock, his partner, and Sam _cannot_ lose him.

However, something definitely isn't right when it actually feels _unnatural_ not to hold hands, to kiss, to touch. Sam doesn't want to say goodnight and go their separate ways anymore. He wants to cuddle Castiel all night long, because that's what feels like should be next for their relationship.

They're so close to having that.

They practically do everything together, chores and recreation, learning something new each day. Sam helps Castiel transition from Angel to human, making the process a little less painful, giving him tips and advice on the daily. Sam never gets impatient with him.

Castiel has plenty to teach Sam as well, something a little less tangible. Castiel's mind is beautiful, a perfect blend of simple and complex. His morals are firm, he knows how to strategize, he's a warrior and a _survivor_. Then there's the side filled with childlike wonder, the part that stops to contemplate the exact fragrance of a flower for half and hour. Castiel is curious, and his appreciation for the little things make Sam's heart hurt.

Some days Sam feels like a needy son of a bitch, aimlessly following Castiel around wherever he goes. Sam is lost, and Castiel's awkward humor, quirky habits, and sunshine smile make Sam feel _found._

Both men share a unique balance, somewhere between supporting one another's crazy as well as keeping the other from straying too far from the path.

As Sam gets closer, he notices a book left open on top of Castiel's chest. Placing down the two piping hot mugs on the nightstand, Sam leans closer to read the title. It's labeled 'A Beginners Guide to Knitting', evidence of Castiel's next obsession. He must have rented it from the public library, Castiel always checking out something completely random that the Bunker library definitely wouldn't stock. Sam can't help but smile like an idiot as he closes the book, gently moving it to the night stand as well.

Castiel looks so peaceful like this. An outsider would no nothing of the pain he's endured, but Sam knows. He and Castiel share the same pain, the struggle of being the odd man out, the horror of Lucifer, the loss of Dean...

Castiel's words echo through Sam's head as if they were said only yesterday, _I was lost until I took on your pain._

Sam feels a surge of protectiveness wash over him as he stares at Castiel. Eventually, realizing he should probably wake him, not wanting to look like a creep who watches people in their sleep. 

Then it hits Sam, Castiel is actually sleeping, not just pretending. Checking the clock, he learns it's still only six forty five in the morning. Not even the aroma of fresh hazelnut is enough to wake Castiel this early.

Reaching out, Sam cups Castiel's cheek, his skin warm beneath the stubble. "Cas? Hey, Cas?"

Castiel wiggles a little, eyes remaining shut as a small smile is born onto his face, breathing out, "Mmm, Sam."

It's not a question.

It makes Sam's face pink. 

Castiel nuzzles his face against Sam's hand, beginning to sink back into slumber. "Cas, Cas...wake up. I have coffee." Sam removes his hand and sits down on the bed.

Castiel perks up at this. Maybe it's the loss of Sam's hand or maybe it's the enticing promise of coffee. Whatever it is, Castiel's eyes peel open, seeking out Sam's instantly.

"Hi," Sam chuckles.

Castiel strains his neck trying to see the clock, turning back to Sam with the most adorable pout on his face. "It is very early."

Sam swallows a lump in his throat, as he tells himself he does _not_ want to kiss that pout right off Castiel's lips.

"I know, I'm sorry, I couldn't wait any longer."

_I missed you._

Castiel's expression lightens, smiling almost reluctantly as he sits up. He looks over to the nightstand and says, "Smells--"

"Good..." Sam finishes for him. 

Castiel throws him a look of fake annoyance, picks up the cup and warms his hands. After a moment of silence, Castiel's tired eyes bolt awake, "Happy Birthday, Sam."

Sam's stomach drops. Happy birthday? 

_He forgot his own birthday._

"Uhhh, oh, right..." Sam blunders. His stomach drops again, but this time, the cause is from intense affection for the man in front of him. Castiel remembered, he _cared_ even when Sam didn't. "Thanks, Cas."

"I got you something," Castiel tells him, looking a little nervous now.

Unashamedly, Castiel breathes in some of the steam from his coffee, before placing it back down. It's still too hot. He reaches inside the bedside drawer, pulling out what appears to be a card. Not saying another word, Castiel hands it over and watches, waiting for Sam's reaction like a hawk.

Sam smiles as he reads the white envelope. In plain black ink, it states, 'Sam Winchester.' Tearing it open, he pulls out the actual card, revealing a generic photo of a dog on the front. When he turns the page, he almost laughs but stops himself. It has a pocket for money, but there's nothing in it. On the right hand side, in the same black ink it continues with, 'Happy Birthday, Love Castiel.'

The card is fucking perfect.

Castiel has never done anything like this before, for anyone. But he chose to try, for _Sam_.

Sam must have taken too long to say something because Castiel starts babbling, "I know of your fondness for canines, so I picked--"

"Cas!" Sam cuts him off, smiling so wide his teeth show. "I love it, thank you so much."

Castiel looks visibly relieved, sighing out, "Really?" 

"Yes! Best card I ever got," Sam confirms.

"I'm glad. I was thinking we could do whatever you'd like today...something fun," Castiel explains, grabbing his mug again.

Sam smiles wickedly at him, "Anything I want?"

"Anything," Castiel repeats lowly.

Sam pretends his dick didn't just jump from how deep Castiel's voice went.

"Okay, then...I'd like to go for a jog. And I want you to come with me."

Castiel looks a little surprised, answering with, "Exercise? I was under the impressions humans like to be lazy on their birthdays."

"Yeah, I guess that's true, but I've been nothing _but_ lazy and today I want to be productive. I cleaned out Dean's bedroom this morning." Sam blurts out the last part unexpectedly, cringing at his own awkwardness.

Castiel's face falls, "I could have helped."

"Nah, it's okay. I kinda wanted to do it alone..." Sam says quietly.

Castiel nods knowingly, his free hand closing around Sam's, "It must not have been easy, I'm proud of you."

Sam nearly melts out of existence, Castiel's strong hand the only thing keeping him corporeal. "Thanks, Cas...for everything."

Eyes locked, there's a tense moment, Sam blushing from the way Castiel is looking at him. The guy's got some serious bedroom eyes. Hands breaking apart, they both sip their coffee for the first time.

"So, does this mean you'll run with me?" Sam says playfully, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Of course, when?" Castiel replies casually, before taking another sip and moaning at the taste.

That sound shouldn't be _allowed_. Especially, mere seconds after Sam had to endure Castiel's smoldering fucking eyes.

"I was thinking now," Sam reveals, his voice a little more high pitched that usual.

"Now?" Castiel whines, "It's so early."

There's that adorable pout again. Shit.

"But, it's my birthday and I brought you coffee!" Sam laughs.

"You didn't even know it was your birthday, did you..." Castiel grins. "I brought this upon myself."

"Nope. And yup. So, lets go!" Sam says cheerfully, jumping up and heading for the door. "I know a great little park, meet you in the garage in five!"

"Make it ten," Castiel calls back, retreating back into the comforter and bringing his pouty lips to the mug.


	4. Let's Listen to the Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Jess. I hate Amelia. Sorry not sorry. P.S. Castiel is a virgin, April does not exist. This is two years after Dean.

October rolls in with crisp, fresh air and warm colors, Sam and Castiel are out at the park they've been jogging in for months.

Sam has done some pretty sappy things in his lifetime, but feeding ducks at the local park with his 'not boyfriend' has to be a winner. However, seeing the look of joy on Castiel's face as he throws down the bird seeds, makes the whole thing worth it. Sam had suggested the outing once he found Castiel's most recent library book, 'Everything You Need to Know About Ducklings.'

It's been building for months, maybe years, but Sam has finally accepted the fact that he's in love with Castiel. Sam's been in love once before, his first love, beautiful Jessica. He still thinks about her. He thinks about how in another life they would have been married, they would have had kids, they would have been _happy._ Sam tries not to think about her for too long, but she's always _there._

Sam's mind wanders to his relationship with Amelia, an attempt to fill up the gaping hole that Jess left behind. At the time, he'd been on the run for so long, one crazy fling after another, Sam just wanted to settle down. Desperate for normalcy, he wanted to have the life he was deprived of with Jess. Dean's mysterious disappearance into Purgatory, pushed Sam to find a new fucked up way to grieve, clinging to Amelia and all the _change_ that she represented.

Some might say that's what's happening with Castiel. That Sam is so fucked in the head over his brother, that he's latched onto the nearest person he can. But that's so far from the truth. This time Sam was forced to face his grief for Dean head on, Castiel right there with him every step of the way. The love he feels for Castiel is so _different_ than anything he's ever experienced before. It's raw and effortless.

Castiel is his endgame.

Except, Sam doesn't know how to tell him this, how to cross that final line. Besides, it could all backfire because Sam still doesn't know for sure if Castiel feels the same way. However, deep down, Sam knows the truth, its _painstakingly_ obvious that Castiel is in love with him too. 

Castiel is picture perfect and Sam feels weak just watching him. Feeding the last little duckling, Castiel waves goodbye as it rejoins its mother and siblings. Wind blowing gently through his raven colored hair, his crystal blue eyes twinkling, and those thick lips curved up into the most glowing smile, Sam can't help himself when he grabs Castiel's hand. Castiel responds instantly, lacing their fingers and squeezing tightly, as if they were always meant to be this way.

"Wanna take a walk?" Sam asks, trying to hold his shit together.

"Sure."

As they walk together, hand in hand, Sam feels that he owes Castiel an explanation. It's up to Sam to lead Castiel in these situations, the ex-Angel completely unaware of how to progress a relationship. The way they act around one another is too close to be a normal friendship, touching too often, staring too intensely. It's ridiculous to ignore any longer. Sam decides he's going to tell him, just grow a pair and spit the words out. It's a beautiful day and the timing feels right.

"Cas, I have something to say..." Sam's voice is strained and uneasy.

Castiel turns his head toward Sam, pretty eyes wide with hope, "Yes?"

"Did you enjoy feeding the ducks?" Is what comes out. 

Sam is an idiot, proving himself a true Winchester. Talking is hard.

Castiel is having trouble processing what Sam said, it's clearly not what he expected. "I did, it was...satisfying..."

Sam is cringing. Why couldn't he just tell him?

Continuing their walk, Sam notices a small band setting up and a group of people congregating around them to listen. Sam is thankful for the distraction, leading Castiel closer to the event.

"Maybe we should go," Castiel says quickly, stopping Sam from walking over to the band.

"Why?"

Sam is fucking panicking. He screwed up, Castiel is finally done waiting for him to make a move. He's going to leave him. What if he moves out? 

"There will be music soon..." Castiel's face is contorted, like he can't pick an emotion.

"And? Do you not like music or something?" Sam is more confused than worried now.

"I find music exciting. It's just that I know _you_ dislike it, and I don't want you to be unhappy," Castiel explains.

Sam isn't following him. When did he say he doesn't like music? Sam begins to think about their entire conversation since they've been walking and holding hands. It's awkward, confusing, and _bizarre._ Usually, they function so well together, but not right now.

Sam wants to rewind back to the ducks. This time when Castiel is finished with them, Sam would grab him and pull him into a kiss. It seems so simple now.

"Why do you think I don't like music?" Sam asks, running his thumb smoothly over the back of Castiel's hand.

Castiel looks sad when he says, "Because you always shut it off."

Does he?

Shit. He does.

Sam relaxes and his heart fills with impossibly more love for the man in front of him. Castiel is so _aware_ of everything involving Sam, picking up on even the smallest habits he didn't know he was doing.

Sam's been unconsciously avoiding music for two years because he's scared, scared that something will remind him of Dean and it'll hurt. Scared that the song will be ruined and another good memory will turn bad.

"Cas, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you thought-- I love music," Sam cuts himself off. Castiel looks unconvinced, studying Sam, trying to figure it out. "I didn't want anything to remind me of Dean. It's stupid."

"I understand this. Whenever I see the Impala now, it makes me sad. It never used to," Castiel admits, lowering his gaze to where their hands are locked.

It's such a human thing, to feel sadness over the things that make us happy.

Nobody heals Sam the way Castiel does every _single_ day. Even after all the times when Castiel was an angel, wiping his injuries clean, using his Grace to erase the wounds, it could never compare to the way Castiel cares for him now. The hardest things to heal aren't physical. 

Sam folds his arms around a very human Castiel, molding their bodies closely together. For a moment Sam just holds him, then he whispers, "Let's listen to the music, Cas. I'm ready, I want to...with you."

~

The show was brilliant. Castiel can't stop hearing the many fascinating combinations of beats and rhythms. He wants to attend more concerts, maybe even learn how to play an instrument of his own one day. Also, sharing the experience with Sam had made it even better.

Everything is better with Sam.

Being in love with Sam is part of who he is now, Castiel just wishes they could be _more._ He doesn't quite understand it, but he knows he wants to touch Sam. Castiel wants to use his hands and his mouth to explore Sam's body, so curious of the way he'd taste, of the sounds he'd make.

Castiel remembers the first night he ever masturbated. Laying in bed, he touched himself until Sam's name tumbled from his lips and his cock leaked white. Too many nights go like that. Castiel's patience wearing thin, craving the real thing over fantasy.

But Castiel waits, because he doesn't know what else to do.

After they leave the park, Castiel asks if they can stop for coffee, to which Sam agrees. The little shop they end up at is cozy and personal. Castiel spends fifteen minutes reading the menu and changing his mind. Eventually, Sam says that they'll come back every day until Castiel has tried it all. And it's definitely not the promise of future caffeine overload that has Castiel smiling all gummy.

It's dark when they leave, their car parked a few blocks away. Sam wraps an arm around Castiel's waist as they begin walking back and Castiel presses into it. He feels high on life, happily sipping something called a pumpkin spice latte, while Sam holds him close.

"Today was awesome," Sam say dreamily.

"It was," Castiel hums.

"Castiel." A deep female voice from somewhere behind them states his name. "Traitor," a second voice adds, this one belonging to a man. They're dangerous.

Before Castiel can fully react, Sam rips himself away, pushing Castiel forward with a tremendous force only adrenaline can produce. Castiel trips on a crack in the side walk, falling to his hands and knees and dropping his drink. Sam is yelling, a primal sound of rage, a sound Castiel hasn't heard in years. It breaks his heart.

The darkness around him flashes blindingly light, followed by a familiar high pitched ringing. The sound of two dull thuds happen immediately after and Castiel's recognizes it as bodies hitting the ground. He can't turn around. His voice doesn't work anymore.

Trying to catch his bearings, Castiel is shaking violently with shock and fear. He's never felt this vulnerable, fragile without his angelic powers to back him up. Castiel forces himself to be brave, turning around to see if Sam is alive or dead.

Sam is standing and breathing heavily, his eyes blown dark as he stares at the blade in his hand. It's an Angel Blade. Two angels lay dead at his feet. Castiel doesn't look at their faces, he doesn't want to know which of his brethren attempted to murder him. 

If he didn't know Sam, know the goodness in his heart, Castiel would be frightened of him. Sam is _lethal_ , years out of practice or not, the hunter instincts are bred into him. They'll never fade. For a split second Castiel is grateful for John Winchester's harsh training, because Sam's reaction speed saved Castiel's life.

Castiel doesn't want to die. Not anymore.

"Sam." It's barely audible.

Sam looks over to him, dropping the blade with a loud clatter and rambling, "I don't wanna do this anymore, I didn't want this-- I can't--"

"Sam!" Castiel's voice cracks. "Please..." 

Castiel is still on the ground, his knees scraped and his clothes ruined from the coffee spill. The tone of Castiel's plea must have said it all, because in less than a second Sam is lifting him up and embracing him tighter than he ever has before.

Castiel feels like he's about to explode, he wasn't made to feel this much. Fear, sadness, shock, relief, anger, love, arousal. It's all too much. 

They both seem incapable of words at the moment. So Sam takes Castiel's hand and practically runs back to the car. Driving much too fast, they reach the Bunker in half the time it should have taken. Sam slams the driver's side door and walks around to the passenger side, dragging Castiel out. Sam doesn't stop moving until the two of them are safely protected within the warding, pushing Castiel up against the library wall.

"I love you," Sam breathes, eyes dripping with honesty.

Castiel gasps, trying to find the words to reply inside the scrambled mess of his brain. It doesn't matter though, because Sam stops him from thinking or speaking. With his lips.

Sam is kissing him full on the mouth and Castiel is blooming like a flower. Nothing will ever feel like this ever again, the most intense moment of Castiel's life, his first real kiss. Feeling of a pair of soft lips move against his own is nice, but it feels _amazing_ knowing that they're Sam's. Now he fully understands the obsession most humans have with kissing, it's addicting. 

"Castiel, my Castiel, fuck..." Sam whimpers, his hands roaming everywhere. "Can't lose you..." 

"Sam, I'm sorry," Castiel starts, feeling guilty.

Sam had to kill again. For him.

Sam stops kissing him, "Don't apologize, none of this was your fault."

"But those angels could have hurt you, and that _would_ have been my fault," Castiel pants, bouncing his attention back and forth between Sam's eyes and his already slightly swollen lips.

Castiel wants nothing more than for Sam to kiss him again. His own lips feel cold and naked without the companionship of Sam's warm ones.

"Those angels could have taken you from me... _nobody's_ gonna take you from me, Cas," Sam practically growls. 

Sam is on him again. Castiel's breath hitches, his mouth opening a little when a wet tongue slides over his bottom lip. Taking the opportunity, Sam slips inside, claiming the entire area with possessive licks and swipes. If Castiel thought the kiss was great before, it's nothing to the feeling of having Sam's tongue inside him. Castiel instinctively sucks on it, moaning loudly, "Sam, I love you too..."

Now it's Sam's turn to moan, pressing their groins together and revealing to Castiel the bulge in his pants. It's lighting Castiel up, his own erection growing quickly with every kiss, every pant, every rut of Sam's hips.

All of a sudden, Castiel is terrified, he doesn't know exactly what happens next. Kissing feels natural, easy, but sex is scary and everything's happening too fast.

"S-Sam!" Castiel half whines half yells.

Breaking their lips apart, Sam rests his forehead against Castiel's, "Mm?"

Sam's breathing is labored and his eyes nearly black. Castiel squirms in his too tight pants when he realizes why that's so hot. Sam looks exactly like he did right after he killed someone, the comparison only making Castiel's cock harder. Maybe he's damaged for feeling that way, but he doesn't care. Long ago did he accept that he's different. Always the rebel, always a little fucked up.

Gathering his thoughts, Castiel chokes, "Too fast."

Sam pulls back, visibly coming back down to Earth as he says, "Cas, I'm so sorry, you're right we should probably talk first..." Sam is cradling his face now, kissing him tenderly one last time.

"I want this," Castiel tells him, placing his hands on Sam's hips, keeping him close. 

"S'okay, I get it," Sam coos, smiling affectionately.

His sweet Sam is back, hazel eyes blossoming, replacing lust with love. There's no trace of the sexually dominant animal that was about to fuck Castiel into next week. And as much as Castiel wants Sam to do just that, it's comforting to know that _this Sam_ is always underneath, he'd never hurt or force Castiel.

Sam gives Castiel a once over, frowning slightly when he notices his current state, "I'm sorry about your shirt," his fingers tracing the large brown stain.

"Unforgivable, that was the best latte I've ever had..." Castiel teases.

Sam's eyebrows raise comically high, "Are you saying that fancy hipster stuff is better than what I make for you?" Sam laughs, threading their fingers together.

"Nothing is better than the coffee you make for me," Castiel replies seriously. Sam laughs louder, filling the room with Castiel's favorite sound in the world.

Castiel can't stop himself when he reaches up and kisses Sam again. This time their kisses are lazy and smiley, there's no rush or pressure involved.

"I'd love to continue kissing you," Castiel states, his voice rough. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"

"Yeah," Sam sounds drunk as he nods his head, confirming his enthusiasm for this plan. "Let's go."

It's almost physically painful to separate from one another, but they've survived worse. Castiel changes into his pajamas, brushes his teeth, and cleans up the superficial cuts on his knees. His bed has never looked so enticing, jumping into it, he waits for Sam to join him.

Not even two minutes later, Sam is slotting his body into Castiel's, their lips finding each other instantly. It feels nice to lay with him, to touch and cuddle without fear of crossing a line. The thought of sleeping is hilarious, Castiel determined to live inside Sam's mouth for the rest of the night. 

Sam comes up for air, "I really do love you, you know that right? It wasn't some crazy in the moment thing I blurted out..."

Of course Castiel knows that, the evidence is in his eyes. But it's wonderful to hear it, to be reassured.

"Yes, I believe you," Castiel says, trying to push down a question he's been dying to ask. 

"Then what's wrong?" Sam asks, sensing Castiel's struggle. Castiel can't hide from him.

"I'm just glad we're allowed to express our love now..." Castiel admits, cheeks reddening. "I've wanted this type of relationship with you for a long time, and it's scary to think that had I not almost died tonight, we might be in separate rooms right now."

The truth weighs heavy.

Castiel is relieved when Sam doesn't panic, doesn't rattle off excuses, or worst of all try to leave. Sam stays, he shifts closer and says, "You're one hundred percent right. The only goddamn thing that's ever progressed my life has been tragedy. We don't deserve that anymore."

Sam pauses, brushing away a stray hair on Castiel's forehead. "I was gonna tell you today actually, after the ducks, but I chickened out."

Another pause, Castiel soaking up the words Sam confesses to him. Sam laughs nervously as he continues, "And even though I _knew_ you felt the same way, I couldn't do it. What if you left me, Cas? I couldn't risk that...

"I would never leave you." The extent to which that statement is true is _alarming_. Castiel can't think of _anything_ that would turn him against Sam. Maybe he's sick, but after seeing the lengths Sam went to to protect him tonight, Castiel knows the sickness runs both ways.

It's part of being a Winchester.

"I'm sorry..." Sam whispers.

"I'm sorry too."

"C'mere."

Sam lays flat on his back and raises his arm, signaling for Castiel to snuggle in there. He obliges happily, resting his head as close to Sam's heart as he can.

A weight has been lifted. Peace, love, and comfort, all that remains. "Love you," they mumble together, drifting off to sleep at the same time.


	5. The Night Owl and the Early Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somnophilia? Yeah, a little bit. Wing kink? Yup, sorta. John Winchester hate? Oh, definitely. Two years and a couple months after Dean.

Sam is good. He's sleeps regularly, he eats healthy, he works out, and he keeps busy with the things that make him happy. He's even contemplating taking a few college courses online. Sam misses school, the satisfaction of learning and bettering himself. The thought of being successful, making money of his own instead of gambling or stealing, is immensely appealing.

Bad days still exist. Two years doesn't just erase the pain. Sam thinks about Dean every day. Sometimes he forgets he's gone, those are the worst days. The tidal wave of loss hitting Sam just as hard as it did the first time. But Castiel is ready at any moment, ready to comfort him, ready to cry with him. It helps a little.

Castiel has days where his own struggles get the better of him as well. He hates when his angel to human transition shows, because the truth is, his brain works _differently_ now. Whenever he can't remember something simple he gets frustrated. His memory has a maximum capacity, opposed to when he was an angel it was infinite. Castiel is use to storing eons worth of history, lore, and facts, but as a human, things often slip through the crack. Luckily, Sam has all the patience in the world, reassuring Castiel he's doing a good job, that he's not a failure.

But whatever kind of day it is, good or bad, Sam wakes up next to the person he loves. Sleeping with Castiel is both perfect and torturous. Castiel is a _professional_ when it comes to cuddling. Not a night goes by that Castiel is not actively soothing Sam in some way.

He starts with Sam's hair, carding through it lovingly. It's by far Sam's favorite part. Castiel's hands are masculine and firm, alternating between massaging and tugging. Castiel learned pretty quickly that Sam definitely has a thing for his hair being pulled.

As Sam's eyes finally shut with no chance of opening again, Castiel moves on, placing feather light kisses on any exposed patches of skin. And even if Sam wasn't entering into the first stage of sleep, he wouldn't open his eyes. Sam does not have enough self control to watch Castiel trail small kisses all the way down his arm, to actually _see_ that damn tongue swipe out when he reaches Sam's elbow. Feeling it is hard enough.

Castiel won't sleep until Sam is out cold, until there isn't enough energy left in his body to produce a snore. Every sleep is the _best_ sleep of Sam's life now, his body putty, becoming one with the mattress.

When morning comes, it's Sam's turn to tease Castiel with barely there touches and kisses. Before Sam gets out of bed, he makes sure to kiss Castiel _thoroughly,_ making Castiel purr and mewl, unconsciously begging for more. The only problem is Castiel is _asleep_ , causing Sam to reluctantly hit the brakes when it goes to far. But fuck if that doesn't make Sam hot, touching and kissing Castiel while he's lost to a dream, probably about Sam.

One day Sam hopes to wake Castiel with his tongue in his ass, licking and moaning while his angel sleeps. The only thing powerful enough to break the spell is when Castiel's untouched cock shoots white and pretty.

These are the things on his mind lately, because Sam is beyond a horny teenager, masturbating nearly twice a day. The Castiel centered fantasies getting crazier and kinkier with every stroke of his abused dick.

It's the middle of December now, and for two months all they've done is kiss. And kissing is wonderful, especially with Cas, but Sam is on the verge of tears whenever they stop, simply needing _more_.

However, there's something _exciting_ about having to wait, making this relationship different from any other yet again. With Jess and Amelia, he pretty much fucked them right away, giving into temptation and short term gratification. But with Cas, this build up they've got going, it's _insane._ Sam knows it's worth it, finally making love when Castiel is ready, Sam could cry thinking about it.

Sam eventually extracts himself from the bed, shuffling into the kitchen to make a pot of fresh coffee. Once it starts to brew, that smell heavenly clouds Sam's brain, causing something unpredictable. He's getting hard. Sam's popping a goddamn boner to the smell of coffee.

What has Castiel turned him into? 

Sam tries to will his erection away, but then he thinks of how Castiel's mouth usually has a trace amount of coffee flavor leftover in it. _That shouldn't be so hot._ Sam somehow manages to calm himself down, pouring two cups and returning to the bedroom. 

~

They were supposed to go out for milk, that's all. Yet unsurprisingly Sam and Castiel spend the entire day out, distractions at every corner. Castiel is fascinated with the obsession people have with Christmas. He's never really had free time to notice the explosion of crazy that happens around this time of year.

Sam still hates Christmas. Especially, without Dean.

But Castiel is curious how the birth of Christ morphed into this hootenanny of elves, snowmen, and reindeer. So they shop.

Castiel decides mistletoe is a must have, "This plant is dedicated solely for the purpose of kissing beneath it? We'll need one for every room."

Sam laughs, "I don't need mistletoe to kiss you..."

That's when they find a deserted aisle to make out in, kissing passionately until things get too heated, knocking down an entire shelf of ornaments. It's not the first time they've made a total mess at a store, it's becoming a pattern.

After they help clean up, while praying that they don't get kicked out, Sam and Castiel quickly pay for their mistletoe and leave.

Later that evening, Sam finds himself sitting comfy on the couch, Castiel snuggled up against his side while they watch the impressively large fire crackle loudly. Sam's come to love this room of the Bunker, a sort of den that the two of them spend a decent chuck of their time relaxing in. Sam speculates this room was once a smoking lounge, the furniture and decor very ornate. Whatever it was, it's cozier than the library and more functional than one of their bedrooms. A while back, Castiel asked Sam if they could install a television, a simple request that lead to an amazing investment.

They watch shows and movies together all the time. Castiel is interested in _anything_ , ever curious and full of ridiculous commentary. He has a habit of asking a question _right_ before the information is revealed. Sam finds it cute, doing his best to answer or predict something for him.

It's so domestic.

However, tonight the television stays off, nothing but the flickering glow of the fire and each other for company. Castiel is fidgety, changing positions every couple of minutes. Eventually, he climbs directly on top of Sam, straddling him, initiating a deep frustrated kiss that makes Sam moan and close his eyes.

Sam's hands slip beneath Castiel's thin gray t-shirt and travel the length of his spine, rubbing his muscles as he pulls him closer. Sam thinks about getting them a better mattress, because the ex-angel's back is riddled with knots. He's never given Castiel a massage, but the idea is very inticing. Impulsively, Sam digs his thumb in, attempting to work out the tightness. Castiel gasps suddenly, parting their lips and quivering.

"I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?" Sam asks immediately.

"No," Castiel replies, his voice far away. Sam doesn't like it.

Castiel just sits there, cheeks pink, hair a mess, with his half hard cock pushing against Sam's stomach. Sam can tell he _did_ hurt him, he just doesn't know why Castiel is trying to hide it. What would make Castiel so sensitive about his back?

Then it hits Sam, hoping he's not wrong when he chances, "Cas, was that...was that where your wings were?"

"Y-yes..." Castiel finally says, not making eye contact.

This is obviously a sore topic for Castiel, one he's probably been avoiding dealing with for a long time. Sam feels a pang of guilt, Castiel learned human interaction from the best. But Sam won't be his father, he won't allow the cycle to continue, Castiel is going to talk about his damn feelings.

Sam turns Castiel's chin and brigs their eyes back together, "Tell me how you feel."

Castiel appears terrified now, shaking his head and trying to pull away.

"Please," Sam begs him.

Castiel stops wiggling. Taking a deep breath, he struggles to say, "It's illogical. This isn't my true form, therefore my wings were technically never really there to begin with."

"I'm sorry...going through a change like that, it's traumatic. But you've been so strong and I'm proud of you, Cas."

Castiel isn't believing him, a single tear falling from his big doe eyes. "I miss them."

Sam is trying to hold on, he can't crumble right now.

"I wish I could have seen them..." Sam kisses Castiel once, lightly, before asking, "Can you describe them to me?"

Castiel kisses him back speaking his reply directly against Sam's lips, "They were beautiful, I was beautiful..." 

"You're still beautiful," Sam breathes, tasting a few of Castiel's tears when they drip down into his mouth.

"No, I'm not," Castiel hiccups, burying his face in Sam's neck. "I can't even look in a mirror, Sam, I hate what I see."

"Cas," Sam starts, but he doesn't know what to say.

Castiel lifts his head and says, "I think about sex with you often, about how much I want to see you and touch you. But then I think about you seeing me, and I don't like that."

Sam grabs Castiel's face again, gently yet stern, "Cas, I want you _so badly_ , you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You think I see Jimmy Novak when I look at you? I've always seen past that, I've always seen _you._ "

"Really?"

"Yes."

Castiel is coming back to him, he looks a little more open, but Sam decides he still needs more convincing. "These are _your_ eyes now, _your_ lips. This is your body, Castiel, all yours."

They're kissing again, it's desperate and messy, "This is _your_ cock, Cas..." Sam cups his hand around it, making Castiel whine and buck forward.

"Let me show you how much I want you. Wanna suck your cock. Will you trust me?" Sam husks, his voice is dirty. He hasn't heard himself like this in years.

"Sam, please...yes," Castiel pants, making such pretty sounds as Sam squeezes his cock tighter.

Sam flips them around, making sure Castiel's head lands safely against the back of the couch. Dropping to the floor, Sam pulls Castiel's sweat pants down along with him, sliding them completely off beyond his already bare feet.

Before Sam goes to remove Castiel's underwear he looks up at him, "You tell me if you wanna stop, okay?"

Castiel nods. 

It's been a long time since Sam's sucked someone's cock. It feels good to be on his knees again, ready to pleasure, eager to taste.

Leaning in, Sam grabs the elastic on Castiel's boxer briefs and begins to lower them down. Castiel watches, his eyelids droopy and his mouth slightly open. However, once his cock is fully free, gorgeous and long, Castiel closes his eyes, which makes Sam refuses to continue.

"Cas, open your eyes," Sam whispers, purposely making sure that Castiel feels the heat from his breath, feels how close he is to his cock.

Castiel listens, opening a pair of eyes that make Sam do a double take. They're _black_ , lust and firelight drowning out their usual blue. 

"Don't look away, watch me..."

Keeping eye contact, Sam places a light kiss on the red tip of Castiel's cock, pre-come sticking to his lips like a long ribbon of sin as he pulls back. Castiel groans, his hands digging into the couch, his jaw clenching.

Sam is so fucking hard in his pants, but he resists the urge to touch himself, this is about Castiel. Sam stations his hands on Castiel's muscular thighs, spreading them further apart so he can get even closer. 

Sam begins to lick, his wet tongue coating the entire shaft with warm spit. Castiel's chest is heaving up and down and Sam catches his toes curling out of the corner of his eye. It's intoxicatingly to have this much power over him, Sam's barely done anything and Castiel looks seconds away from coming.

"Sam, please!"

"Please what, Cas?" Sam taunts, continuing the kitten licks and kisses.

"S-suck me!"

"You promise to watch the whole time?"

"Yes," Castiel agrees through gritted teeth.

Sam smiles, not bothering with a verbal response. He takes the entire length of Castiel's cock inside his mouth, swallowing it whole and begins to bob his head slowly. Castiel moans filthily, hips twitching a little. Sam anticipated this and held him down, not wanting to choke and scare him off.

The weight of Castiel's cock inside him is perfect. Sam feels his mouth relax around it's girth, sucking happily, his own cock throbbing painfully with every drag of his lips.

And Castiel is being so good for him, true to his word, he watches Sam, making the situation impossibly hotter. Sam loves to be watched, it boosts his ego and makes him more daring.

Sam pulls off momentarily, "Like my mouth, Cas? Feel good the way I'm sucking you?" 

"Yeah, yeah, Sam...ahhh..." Castiel releases his death grip on the couch and reaches for Sam's hair.

Allowing Castiel to guide him back, Sam opens his mouth and takes him in again. Feeling Castiel's hand on the back of his neck is encouraging, causing Sam to pick up the pace. He rams the cock in his mouth deeper, wanting as much of Castiel as he can fit inside him. Sam's eyes are watering, but they never once leave Castiel's newly black orbs. Their unnatural darkness has Sam's stomach fluttering.

Sam breaks for air, spit dribbling down his chin, "So beautiful, Cas...so beautiful." Sam goes down on him one last time, knowing this time he's going to make Castiel come. 

Sam adds his hand, wrapping it tightly around the shaft and pumping it in rhythm with his mouth. Castiel is losing it, panting and moaning incoherently, while his fingers tighten in Sam's hair. He tugs, too hard, and Sam nearly comes untouched. The extra vibrations from Sam's broken moan push Castiel over the edge. 

"Saaaaaaam!" Castiel yells, practically ripping Sam's hair out.

The long anticipated taste of hot come floods Sam's mouth as he drinks it down hungrily. Castiel's hips are spasming, little involuntary jerks and juts that force his cock even deeper. Sam loves that Castiel's come is finally inside him, he feels claimed and safe, even more connected with his angel than before.

Sam has never enjoyed somebody else's orgasm so much, almost better than experiencing one himself. Castiel is shaking, eyes glued to where Sam is milking out the last delicious drop of his release.

Not wanting to overstimulate him, Sam pulls off and climbs up Castiel's body, instinct drawing their lips back together. And like the perfect lover, Castiel opens his mouth, inviting Sam to share the taste with him.

"Fuck, Cas..."

Castiel sucks obscenely on his tongue and then says, "Put your cock in my mouth, Sam."

Sam doesn't need to be told twice, tearing his clothes off like an animal and obeying Castiel's demand as fast as possible. Castiel is still wearing his shirt, and Sam hates it, hates the barrier it's causing. 

"Take this off," Sam growls, biting Castiel's neck roughly. "I need to see you naked."

Castiel whines when he feels Sam's teeth sink into him, already grabbing for the hem of his shirt and lifting it off. Sam's heart is swelling, Castiel trusts him, wants to show him the body he has no confidence in. 

Sam breaks contact with Castiel's neck only to let the last bit of his clothing slip past. He immediately attacks the already bruising spot again, pressing their bare chests together and groaning when Castiel reaches down and touches his too sensitive cock.

"Yeah, Cas, touch me, baby..." Sam babbles, as Castiel strokes slowly. "Just like that, doing so good..."

Castiel's hand is so large, so manly, so different than Jess and Amelia's. Long neglected from the touch of another man, Sam's dick responds to Castiel dangerously fast. He doesn't want to blow his load immediately, but there may not be any other option, Castiel feels too good, squeezing him so tight.

As he ruts into Castiel's willing hand, abandoning the angel's neck to kiss him again, a comforting thought enters Sam's brain. So what if he comes too fast? This isn't the end, they get to do this _all the time._

"Cas, tell me what you want," Sam whimpers, begging for direction, unable to stop the motion of his hips fucking into Castiel's hand.

"This...but in my mouth..." Castiel tells him.

_Holy fucking shit, Castiel wants him to fuck his face._

Sometimes Sam feels like he can't keep up, one minute Castiel is this nervous virgin and the next he's asking for Sam to pound his dick down his throat.

"Wha?" Sam starts, breaking the kiss to find Castiel's eyes. "You sure?"

There's so much Sam wants to say, but he can't articulate anything substantial anymore, he's too far gone with lust. He wants to tell Castiel that they should start out slow, allow him to get used to things at his own pace. But the devil in Sam is screaming to choke Castiel on his cock, to relentlessly fuck that pretty mouth until he's crying.

Castiel _knows_ Sam, knows what he wants and how he wants it. They've come so far since Castiel called him an abomination, because now Castiel thrives on it, gets off on the little bit of darkness that will permanently live inside Sam.

There's more than one way to fall.

"I am sure," Castiel says and Sam believes him.

Sam manhandles Castiel into the position he wants, laying him so his head rests against the arm of the couch. Straddling Castiel's chest, Sam lines his cock up to those perfectly puffy lips.

Castiel is saying so much with just his eyes, somehow bright blue again. _I trust you, I want this, you're beautiful, I love you_. But a part of Sam needs to get some things clear verbally, the part of him that loves Castiel more than his dick. "Cas, we can stop at any time, if you can't breathe or you hate it, just signal to me, okay?"

Nodding, Castiel leans forward and takes the head of Sam's cock inside his mouth. It's so fucking sudden.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Cas!" 

The bastard smiles. His lips stretch wider as he takes more of Sam's length and begins suckling sweetly. Sam is already seeing stars, he can barely balance himself as he witnesses Castiel, former Angel of the Lord, moaning and sucking his cock like a goddamn slut.

The wet heat is sending Sam into overdrive, hips beginning to thrust and hands weaving their way into Castiel's hair. Sam has never needed to come so badly in his entire life, but he holds off just a little longer.

"Shit, Cas, so hot," Sam grunts, going faster, using the fuck hole in front of him.

Castiel goes limp, his soft and wet mouth begging Sam to go deeper. Harder. So Sam does, fucking him faster and faster. Sam feels Castiel reach around behind him, his arm engaging in a repetitive movement.

Castiel's hard again, jerking himself off.

"Gonna come again, Cas?" Sam asks, mesmerized by the way his dick is disappearing and reappearing. 

A loud moan tells Sam, yes, Castiel is going to explode at any moment. Tears and drool coat his face, Sam's hips hammering harder and harder until he feels the back of Castiel's throat contract around his cock. "Mmm, dirty angel, go ahead make a mess, come for me..."

Castiel makes a broken noise, his body stiffening for the second time tonight, coming hard for Sam just like he asked. Becoming impossibly weaker in the after glow of his orgasm, Castiel lays there like a rag doll, content to wait as long as Sam needs.

Which isn't long, because seconds later Sam is coming, nearly passing out from the intensity of it. He presses Castiel all the way up to the base of his cock, burying his nose in the tiny curls of Sam's hair. His dick pulses directly down Castiel's throat and Sam feels Castiel swallowing as best he can. Needy hands grab Sam's ass to keep him in place, Castiel not ready to relinquish the cock in his mouth until every precious drop fills his insides.

"Holy shit," Sam sighs, pulling out and sitting back. 

Castiel looks exhausted and thoroughly debauched, a dopey grin spreading across his face as he stares up at Sam. He's never felt so possessive over someone, Castiel is _Sam's_ , territorial bruises on the outside and his come on the inside. Sam could go again right now, but Castiel needs to be cleaned up, and they should really go to bed.

_They have plenty of time._

Kissing him tenderly, Sam asks, "You good?" He continues, placing the tiniest kisses at the corners of Castiel's mouth, cheeks, and nose.

"Yes, you taste amazing...better than coffee," Castiel muses.

Sam can't stop the laughter that bursts out of him, "I'll remember that, you crazy addict," And Castiel giggles along with him, his hands still roaming the nakedness of Sam's body. 

Shivering, Sam composes himself and says, "Let's shower and go to bed."

"Shower...together?"

"Well, yeah...but we don't have to, if you want, you can go first. I just--"

"I'd love to."

The shower takes them over forty five minutes, both men happily distracted by washing and exploring each other, their movements sensual and full of love.

Twice.

No pajamas tonight, just raw Sam and Cas. Cuddled up close, Sam enjoys Castiel's nightly petting routine, noticing one last thing before his eyes drift shut. 

Directly above their bed, a tiny clove of mistletoe hangs suggestively. Sneaky angel.


	6. See What I See

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two Years and roughly three months after Dean.

Castiel has the Bunker to himself. It's not often that this happens and it feels strange. Sam is out on some errands, taking an unusually long amount of time, which makes Castiel nervous. He hates that he has to worry, that he must live with the fact that the life they left behind might sneak back up and steal Sam away from him.

Trying to behave normally, he sifts through the numerous rented library books and newspapers that are scattered all over the table. Uncovering his laptop, _Dean's laptop,_ Castiel browses the web...like normal people do. Normal people who aren't worried about their boyfriend being attacked by a random act of monster violence.

It's unavoidable, but he's attempting to get better at blocking out all the potential supernatural activity around them. Between the Internet, the paper, and the Bunker's environment, ignoring the fact that this stuff still exists is rather difficult. People are dying, people that they could have saved. Crowley is still out there. 

It's hard not to feel guilty, hard not to want to clean up the never ending mess. Castiel and Sam used to be part of something so much larger than themselves, larger than this perfect little life they've built. Watching from the outside seems selfish. 

As much as he doesn't ever want to go back to their previous life of heavenly wars and hunting, Castiel might never get used to this life. It's too easy and he feels useless.

Maybe he's just bored.

Castiel spends the next few hours searching online for _something_ , anything that might bring meaning to his life. He toys with the idea of school, or getting a job. In the end, nothing really sparks his interest. Castiel plans to talk with Sam about this, maybe he feels the same way.

Closing the laptop, Castiel sits up straight. His back is hurting again. It always hurts. The battle in his head starts up again, one voice telling him he's imagining it, that it's all in his head. The loss of his wings simply causing a phantom pain. But the other voice tells Castiel that this is real, that his muscles are contracting in a way that is causing him actual physical discomfort.

Who knows.

Castiel hears the door click, which means Sam is back. All bad thoughts get washed away because _his Sam_ is safe. Castiel is seconds away from touching and kissing him, from feeling at home again.

When Sam rounds the corner, hands full of packages, Castiel immediately goes to help him. "Mmm, what's this?" Castiel asks playfully, taking the hot cup of coffee out of Sam's hand.

"A sugary nightmare. Just the way you like it," Sam chuckles, shrugging off his coat and tossing it over one of the chairs. "C'mere."

Castiel takes a big swig, letting the flavor stain his mouth, swirling it around efficiently before swallowing. He places the cup down and allows himself to be pulled into a kiss. Sam's tongue is inside him instantly, licking up the taste and replacing it with his own claim. Castiel is already moaning and pressing closer, ready for more.

"Sorry I was gone so long," Sam apologizes breathily.

"S'okay," Castiel replies, kissing along Sam's jawline until he reaches his ear. Castiel takes this opportunity to suck on his earlobe, hands roaming down Sam's sides, eventually landing on his ass. 

"Got you a present," Sam tries not to pant. His fingers tease the hem of Castiel's shirt, before making their way underneath and resting in the dip of his spine.

Castiel doesn't want to stop this to open a damn present, _this_ is the best present he could ever get. Sam's hands and lips all over him, their bodies responding to one another so quickly, feeling their love as if it were a tangible item. No material object in those bags could ever compare.

It's been nearly a month since they became sexually active, that night by the fire forever burned into Castiel's memory. Sam was so beautiful, and he made Castiel feel beautiful too. Even if it was just for a short while. 

Castiel is still self conscious, the ex-angel can't help but feel like he's living in borrowed skin. Sure, he doesn't actively shy away from the bathroom mirror anymore, and he loves watching Sam suck his cock, but the issues don't disappear over night. 

Slow progress is still progress.

Oral sex is wonderful, but Castiel knows they both need more. Nearly every night, he dreams about Sam's cock buried deep inside him, making love to him slowly and tenderly. He doesn't want to wait any longer.

In these dream scenarios, Castiel pictures himself naked, open and unashamed. The lights are on and there's nowhere to hide. Why can't he feel that way when he's awake?

Castiel whines like a brat when Sam pulls away, insisting on giving Castiel his gift. "Shh, baby, I promise it's worth it."

Sam takes out the contents of the shopping bags, revealing a tall sleek bottle containing amber liquid. Next, he pulls out a large brown candle, and two brand new pillows.

Castiel looks confused, squeezing the pillow experimentally. It feels different than the one in his bed currently. It stays in the shape he smushed it into and leaves an indent. 

"It's better for your neck because it forms specifically to your body," Sam explains as he picks up the little bottle, "And this is massage oil. I thought maybe...if you'd let me, I could give you a massage."

Castiel feels so much at once. This is very nice of Sam. All he wants to do is make Castiel feel better and these thoughtful gifts are making his heart glow. But there's that annoying other part of Castiel is scared shitless. Afraid that he'll panic and tell Sam to stop touching him _there_ , that he'll ruin this amazing offer Sam has presented him with.

Taking a step back, Castiel struggles to say, "I don't know, what if, what if I don't like it..."

Sam smiles warmly at him, closing the gap between them and cupping his cheek, "Then we stop, simple as that." 

Castiel feels more relaxed as he smiles back, his voice more certain, "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, giving you a massage isn't as selfless of an act as you think it is," Sam laughs. "I get to run my hands all over your slippery body...and get to listen to all those pretty sounds you're gonna make...fuck yeah..." 

Sam's kissing him again, filthy and sloppy, his voice changing from sweet to husky so fast it shouldn't feel that natural. All Castiel can do is hold on, take in the words and kiss him back.

"Wanna do it tonight, Cas?"

"Yeah," Castiel whispers, his half hard cock twitching with interest.

Suddenly, Castiel is left alone, swaying on the spot. By the time Castiel opens his eyes, Sam is already gathering up the stuff on the table and making the preparations.

"Go take a shower. Don't put clothes on afterwards," Sam instructs him, before leaving the room. Castiel feels his cheeks flush and his dick harden at being given the order. Grabbing his coffee, Castiel makes a beeline for the bathroom.

~

The steam from the shower is intoxicating, Castiel's body feeling loosened up already. He doesn't touch himself, ignoring his erection as best he can. After he steps out and dries himself off, he wraps the towel around his waist. Sam said no clothes, and this is clearly a towel, which is definitely different. Castiel smirks to himself at finding this loophole.

Castiel makes his way to their bedroom and a familiar yet somewhat odd scent fills his nose when he opens the door. His brain happily goes to coffee, but it's not, it's artificial somehow. That's when he notices the brown candle from before. It's labeled 'Roasted Coffee'. 

Sam is sitting at the edge of the bed, the new pillows covered in their sheets and the oil waiting on the nightstand. Low in the background, Castiel hears soothing music playing. This is very romantic. Castiel is blushing again.

Sam puts his phone away into his pocket and stands up. "Clever, Cas, lose the towel." There's no laughter in his voice.

Castiel doesn't want to. But at the same time, he _does_. Equal parts of him screaming internally. Castiel stares intensely at Sam's beautiful eyes as he finds the courage to untuck the towel. The swoosh of it falling to the ground sounding incredibly loud against the silence.

"Fucking perfect," Sam breathes, eyeing Castiel up and down. Castiel is still hard.

He wishes Sam was naked too.

"Lay down on your stomach."

Castiel likes this, he'll be mostly covered. Once he's laying flat, he has to resist the urge to rut against the soft sheets. How is he supposed to remain still when he's this turned on? Sam hasn't even started touching him yet. The new pillow is extremely comfortable, Castiel automatically nuzzles his cheek against it.

Sam is somewhere behind him, Castiel's heart is pounding, he wants to see him. Right on cue, Sam steps forward, grabbing the oil and popping the cap open.

Sam leans down so his face is close to Castiel's. Their eyes meet as he says, "Enjoy."

The oil is surprisingly warm when it drizzles onto him in a zigzagging pattern. Sam's hands waste no time in joining the oil, smearing it evenly across the canvas of Castiel's back and all the way down both his toned legs. Powerful hands work the oil in deep, Castiel's skin willingly soaking it up. 

It feels so good. 

Sam starts with his left leg, spreading the heated liquid up and down. From his toes to the top of his thigh, Sam squeezes the muscles, forcing the tissue to relax. Calloused and rough, Sam's hands feel nice against the silky smooth oil. Sam pays equal attention to Castiel's other leg, making sure to give it the same amount of attention.

"Oh!" Castiel lets slip. Sam slithers up to his ass, massaging the cheeks in an almost hypnotic pattern. Castiel's body is turning to goo. Except for his cock. That's the one part of Castiel that continues to harden as the rest of him softens.

Castiel sighs as Sam moves up his body and presses down on his lower back, lengthening his spine and alleviating some of the pressure there. Ghosting over the middle of his back, Sam shifts his attention to Castiel's neck and shoulders. There are many knots here, Sam taking his time with each one. 

The environment Sam has created makes Castiel feel high. The smell of the candle, the sound of the music, the feeling of Sam touching him, it's all too much. Castiel's body is _singing_ as the pain leaves him. Toes wiggling contently and little squeaks of enjoyment leaving his lips. Castiel begins unconsciously grinding his hips.

Sam climbs on top of him, straddling him so his clothed hard-on fits snug inside the crack of Castiel's bare ass. Castiel freezes.

"Don't stop, baby, fuck the mattress..."

Castiel groans and starts grinding again. Each thrust pushing Sam's cock further against his hole. Sam continues to massage him, finally giving the middle of his back the attention it deserves. 

"This the spot, Cas? This where your wings were?"

Castiel cries out, moving his hips faster.

"Thought so," Sam grunts, his thumbs digging in, working that sensitive spot where Castiel's wing joints would have been. "Feel good?"

"Y-yes!" And it's the truth. Letting Sam touch his most vulnerable spot is liberating. 

"You're more beautiful without them."

"No," Castiel chokes, one last attempt at defiance.

"Wings or not, you're still my angel...love you, Cas," Sam says steadily.

Castiel can't handle this, Sam is healing him in ways he didn't even realize needed healing. "Sam!" Castiel bucks his hips backwards, trying to hint at what he wants next. 

"Yeah, baby?"

"Fuck me, Sam, please..."

Sam stops moving and the stillness makes Castiel ache. Sam's lips brush against Castiel's ear, "You want my cock inside you, Cas? Want me to fuck you 'til you're screaming like a whore?"

Castiel can't breathe.

"Answer me."

Castiel quickly relearns how to use the English language and breathes out, "Yes."

Sam's weight lifts off of him as he changes positions. Opening Castiel's legs, Sam settles between them and places an oily hand on each of his cheeks.

"Such a perfect ass..." Sam mumbles, pinching and squeezing the creamy round globes. "How should I do this? I could prepare you with just my fingers...but I really wanna use my tongue...Would you like that, Cas? Want me to lick you down there?"

Castiel is squirming, the idea of Sam's tongue in his ass is making him so hot, his painfully hard dick agreeing wholeheartedly.

"Yes, do it, use your tongue."

"Fuck..."

Sam spreads Castiel's cheeks apart and exposes his hole, placing a sinful kiss directly onto it. Castiel whines, it feels so intimate to be touched there. Sam pokes his tongue out, licking a small stripe over his tight pucker. He grows bolder, wetting the area with the warmth of his mouth, sucking and licking more passionately.

Castiel feels his rim relax and expand slightly, getting used to this erotic sensation. All of a sudden he's seeing stars, because Sam changes the game and pushes his way inside. Castiel hears Sam moan long and deep when he clenches tightly around his tongue. 

"Please, more, more..."

Sam obliges, stabbing his tongue in and out of Castiel's hole, a preview of what his cock plans to do. 

Everything stops. Frantically, Castiel peeks over his shoulder and sees Sam wiping his hands clean on a damp wash cloth. Castiel is just about to complain when Sam assures him, "Shh, it's okay. Gonna put my fingers inside you now."

Sam opens a pocket sized bottle of lube and gets straight to work. The comfort of his tongue is back as he adds a finger, breaching Castiel easily. Castiel can't help the noises he's producing now, getting louder and louder as Sam adds up to three fingers, stretching him nice and wide.

"Look so good like this, Cas," Sam tells him, removing both his tongue and fingers. "All ready for my cock..."

Castiel is near tears, Sam shouldn't be allowed to stop touching him, even for a minute. Feeling empty, he sticks his ass up in the air, his pretty pink hole fluttering desperately around nothing. 

"Saaaam!" Castiel couldn't care less at how needy he sounds, he needs Sam's dick inside him _now_.

"Flip over, not fucking you like this."

Shit.

Castiel likes this position better, he would prefer to be fucked on his hands and knees, face buried in the pillow. Feeling more than seeing.

"Why?"

"You know why."

There's a pause. Castiel doesn't move and neither man speaks.

"Can we shut the lights?" Castiel tries, the silence awkward.

"No. You're gonna lay on your back for me. I'm gonna watch you, wanna see the pleasure on your face as I slip my cock inside you. We're gonna make love, Cas," Sam explains, rubbing Castiel's back again and peppering kisses at the base of his spine.

Castiel shivers, he wants that too. 

Bravely, Castiel rolls over, his cock bobbing and begging for attention. He sees Sam staring at it, making it leak even more. Not waiting for Sam to ask, Castiel spreads his legs and presents himself, urging Sam to take him.

Sam quickly discards his clothing and slicks up his cock using some of the lube stashed in the top drawer of the nightstand. He crawls on top of him, draping his large frame protectively over Castiel's smaller one. Sam kisses him deeply and their cocks to bump against one another. Castiel hisses at the stimulation, "Please..."

They're kissing like it's the first time and Castiel can feel Sam's heart pounding wildly in his chest. He's nervous too. The tip of Sam's cock nudges Castiel's entrance, it's warm and blunt and huge. Castiel gasps when Sam pushes in, breaking their kiss and leaving their faces only inches apart.

Sam watches Castiel, his stare convincing the angel that he couldn't possibly be anything less than stunning. Castiel feels beautiful, and confident, and loved. He feels _good_.

Castiel is sure he's going to break, Sam's cock is too big, splitting him _too much_. But he doesn't, each inch slides in painstakingly slow, filling him perfectly. Sam stops moving once there's no space left between them. Castiel's breathing is shallow and strained, the love behind Sam's eyes the only thing keeping him alive. 

"Fuck, you're tight," Sam groans, his cheeks rivaling Castiel's for redness.

"Move! Please!" Castiel begs.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yes! Sam! PLEASE!"

Sam pulls his hips backwards, the drag of his dick causing the sweetest burn Castiel's ever felt. "Ohhhh," Castiel whines, arching his back and thrusting forward to meet Sam's push. 

It starts out slow like this, a gentle rocking. Everything is way too intense and Castiel has to remind himself to keep breathing. But Sam takes care of him, petting his hair, holding his hand, teasing his nipples. Sam is _everywhere._

There's not an ounce of pain left, just pleasure beyond comprehension as Sam begins fucking into him faster.

"Yeah, faster, ahh..."

And Sam switches gears, his eyes darken at Castiel's words, "Yeah? You like it rough, baby?"

Castiel just moans in response, wrapping his legs around Sam's body, keeping him closer.

"Wanted this for so long, angel, so fuckin' long..."

Castiel wants to reply, wants to tell Sam he's the only fantasy he's ever had, the only cock he's ever wanted. Unfortunately, any other sound besides slutty moaning is currently unattainable.

Sam's cock drills him harder, "You're so goddamn beautiful, Cas, one day I'm gonna fuck you in front of a mirror...make you see what I see...fuuuuck..."

He pictures it. Castiel imagines watching their bodies move together in the reflective glass and he just knows it would be beautiful. How could it not be, when they're so in love?

Just when Castiel thought things couldn't get better, something _amazing_ happens. Sam hits something deep inside Castiel, awakening his body's best kept secret. For one fucked up second, it makes Castiel believe in God again. Every nerve in his body is tingling, this ecstasy almost too good to be real. Castiel now fully understands the obsession most humans have with sex, he didn't know it could feel like _this._

Castiel screams like a whore. Just like Sam said he would.

Sam takes hold of Castiel's weeping cock and begins pumping it in rhythm. Castiel whimpers and thrashes beneath him, absolutely needing to come.

"I love you, Cas, love you so much," Sam whispers, bringing their lips together. "C'mon, Cas, say it back, tell me you love me," he continues, kissing him as gentle as his hips are brutal.

Castiel hasn't spoken words in what feels like years. And he's expected to form a whole sentence right now?

"Castiel, baby, please...tell me you love me while we're like this...then you can come..." More tender kisses fall between them.

Not realizing he was waiting for permission, Castiel finds the strength to give Sam what he wants.

"I love you, Sam..."

They're both sweating and panting as they come, Castiel spilling his release out in the open while Sam buries his neat and deep. It's the longest orgasm of Castiel's life, waves of pure bliss that go on and on.

Sam slows the rolling of his hips, but doesn't stop completely. He moves just enough to bring them both back down to reality. Castiel wants to live like this, Sam's come inside him, stuffed full with his cock. It feels right. 

For a while they stay locked in that position, too fucked out to move. Castiel can tell Sam is reemerging out of his frenzy, his eyes all gooey and golden again, "I'm so happy."

Castiel giggles a little, "Me too."

Sam kisses him once lightly on the nose before pulling out. Castiel's ass is gaping and he already feels sore.

"Sorry if it hurts," Sam hurries to say, seeing the uncomfortable expression on Castiel's face.

"Don't be, I...like it...the pain will remind me of how full you made me feel."

Sam's eyes bulge comically wide, attacking Castiel's ruined lips once more and growling, "Can't say shit like that, we'll never leave this bed."

"I don't see the problem," Castiel challenges him.

The tension breaks when they both break down in laughter. Castiel feels silly and floaty, carefree in a way he's never been before.

Sam leaves for the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm wet cloth. Castiel hums as Sam cleans him up, admiring the skilled way his hunter performs the task so diligently.

Without hesitation, Sam is back in bed with Castiel, assuming their normal position and settling in for the night. Castiel spoons himself around Sam's body, his hand finding its counterpart and holding it tightly.

"Tonight was beautiful, Sam. Thank you."

"You're beautiful..." Sam yawns, wiggling his ass closer into Castiel's crotch. "Can you just say it for me? I won't sleep until you do..."

"Highly doubtful. I estimate you'll be out cold within the next sixty seconds..." Castiel quips back.

"Caaaasss," Sam whines, giving Castiel's hand a threatening squeeze.

Castiel should just say it. He hasn't felt this happy with himself, _ever._ He and Sam working together for years to fix the issues they both don't deserve to have. It's hard to say out loud though. Once the words leave his lips, they're _real_.

Slowly and clearly he says, "I'm beautiful...I don't hate myself. I want to live. I want to spend the rest of my life in happiness with _you._ "

Castiel feels tears beginning to form as he powers through the words. He's never cried tears of joy before. Yet another first he's proud to share with Sam. 

Sam is squeezing his hand so tight that Castiel is sure circulation is a thing of the past. He turns to face Castiel, their fronts glued together. "So proud of you."

They kiss slowly and freely, only stopping because sleep is claiming them. Sam lays his head on Castiel's chest, mumbling out one last thing, "Definitely fucking you in front of a mirror..."

Castiel smiles and closes his eyes. He looks forward to it.


	7. Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two and a half years after Dean.

There's nothing planned or premeditated about it. It's the craziest, spur of the moment, wonderful, impulsive decision of Sam's life. He simply saw it and bought it.

Sam bought Cas a ring.

As he drives home, Sam feels a slight pang of guilt about using a fake credit card to buy it. No matter how many years of his life he's spent gambling, hustling, and stealing, Sam can't get used to it. It's the last part in his life he wants-- _needs_ , to change for the better. He wants to be a real person, with _real_ hard earned money, like he should have been.

He finds Castiel in the den, cocooned under a blanket and reading a book. Sam can tell he's grumpy, pouting slightly.

"Hey," Sam interrupts, walking over and sliding next to him. 

Castiel pulls his eyes away from the book and smiles. Annoyed or not he's always happy to see Sam.

"Hello."

Sam kisses him sweetly before sitting back. It takes a lot of restraint not to keep going. He always wants Cas. Sam is always right on the verge of just _taking_ him. Whatever they're doing or wherever they are be damned.

Castiel is looking at him expectantly and Sam is sitting there stupidly with a goddamn ring in his pocket.

"So...did you buy it?"

"What?" Sam snips defensively. "No."

"Oh, okay. Were they out of stock?" Castiel looks disappointed.

Sam is scrambling to think of what the heck Castiel is talking about. All he can think about how the new platinum band weighs heavy against his thigh.

"Yes?" Sam tries cluelessly.

"It's okay, maybe we can go somewhere else together. I'd actually like to pick it out..."

Now Sam is panicking. What was he supposed to buy?

_Shit._

"Oh! The coffee pot!!" Sam feels like an idiot as he laughs, "I completely forgot!" 

Castiel does not look amused. "What do you mean you forgot? You went out specifically for that."

Sam can't stop laughing, "I'm sorry, baby, I promise we'll go out right now and get one."

Decaffeinated Castiel is not a laughing matter. The coffee pot broke earlier this morning. It was a tragedy. Sam quickly whipped up some emergency instant stuff that Castiel hated. He remembers trying not to laugh as he watched the ex-angel grimace with every sip.

"I still do not understand, where did you go then?"

Sam stops laughing.

"Right, well, funny thing actually," Sam shifts uncomfortably, his hand automatically resting over the spot where the ring lay hidden in his jeans.

Castiel sinks deeper into the blanket, covering his arms so only his head is visible. He looks grouchier than before. 

"I got distracted..."

"Obviously, Sam, what is the matter? You look nervous. I am not mad at you...I just have a headache," Castiel says like a drama queen.

"I bought you something else." Sam scoots closer.

Castiel raises his eyebrows and cracks the tiniest smile. "What is it?"

Sam swallows the lump in his throat and slips his hand into his pocket. The rings feels cold and intimidating. As he pulls it out, Sam finds solace in Castiel's eyes. "This."

Castiel is staring at it, head tilting to the side and brow furrowing in concentration. It takes him a moment, but suddenly Sam can see that Castiel understands.

"You wish to be married to me?" Castiel shrugs off the blankets and moves ever closer.

"Uh--- well, yeah, if you want...I mean, y-yes," Sam stutters, focusing on the ocean of blue that is now only inches away.

_This is so fucking awkward._

"I didn't realize this was an option for us," Castiel thinks out loud. His voice is sad.

Sam let's out a jittery laugh, "Technically, you're right, we can't actually officially get married. I'm pretty sure I'm legally dead and you're not really...a real person in the eyes of the law. But I don't care. Who needs that paperwork anyway?"

Castiel's attention keeps flickering between Sam's eyes and the ring. His lips are parted and his expression is changing. All thoughts of caffeine deprivation are forgotten.

"So, Cas, will you be mine? Forever?" Sam says, quietly. 

"Sam, yes..." Castiel says breathily. 

Heart hammering, Sam takes Castiel's hand gently inside his own without ever breaking their eye contact. He slides the ring onto Castiel's rugged finger, massaging the spot with care as he leans into kiss him.

This kiss is yet again different from any other, it feels somehow more intense, packed with equal love and lust. It has them both panting within seconds. Sam needs Castiel now, needs to make love to him as his husband.

Castiel breaks away to look down, mesmerized by the pretty metal wrapped possessively around him. He looks up at Sam, "Does this mean I'm a Winchester now?"

Sam doesn't think when he says it, "You've always been a Winchester."

They're both naked, kissing open mouthed and desperate when Sam slides home inside him. Every thrust feels like he might come, Sam panting, "Mine, mine, mine," making Cas whine, "Yours..."

When Sam locks their hands together, his finger runs smoothly over the ring. It's warm and full now, no longer cold and hollow. Castiel comes untouched, moaning loudly that he loves him. Sam's orgasm nearly sends his body into shock, collapsing on top of Castiel, too spent to move.

Eventually, Sam regains use of his body and lifts himself up. "Let's go out for dinner tonight and celebrate."

Castiel hangs on, arms swung loosely around Sam's neck, not letting him get too far away. Claiming him with a sweet kiss, Castiel replies, "And then?" His voice is dripping with fake innocence.

"And then we'll get you a damn coffee pot," Sam laughs into the kiss. Scooping the smaller man's naked form into his arms, Sam heads for the bathroom, kissing that smug smile right off Castiel's face.

~

If Sam thought he felt guilty about spending too much money on an engagement ring, it's nothing to how he feels about how much he spent on this coffee pot.

The thing is a monster the size of half their counter. It's got a ten different settings just for _frothing milk_. But it makes Castiel happy. And watching the adorable way Castiel reads all the instructions and examines the many pieces, makes Sam happy. Very happy.

Sam just stands back and admires how loosely the flannel pants cling suggestively on Castiel's hips. Those hip bones make Sam crazy.

Sam wants to let Castiel enjoy their new gadget, he really does. But he wants to fuck him more. 

This beautiful man is _his_ forever. Sam feels absolutely overcome with desire, age be damned, he's going to fuck his angel twice today.

~

Castiel never thought he'd think the common human thought, 'I'm in heaven,' but here he is thinking it loud and clear. 

Today has been outstanding. Sam turned a terrible morning into the best day of Castiel's life. Castiel blushes thinking about the ring on his finger. He can't stop thinking about it. Even with this amazing new coffee pot in front of him, the only thing on Castiel's mind is being _Sam's husband_. 

Just then, Castiel feels a familiar warmth press up behind him. Demanding hands land on his waist and Castiel immediately knows what's coming next. Sam's hard cock is nudging at him, wordlessly telling Castiel that he's loved, wanted, _needed_ right now.

Castiel gasps and drops the instruction booklet. He melts flat against Sam, shivering when those strong arms further encircle him.

Sams hands wander Castiel's front, trailing lower and lower until he's just above his cock.

"Remember the first time we made love?"

As if Castiel could forget. He feels nervous, but good nervous. Always ready to be at Sam's mercy. Ready to trust and obey.

"Yes."

"Do you remember what I told you? What I was gonna do to you one day?"

Castiel's heart rate is reaching unsafe levels. He knows where this is going. Sam said he was going to fuck him in front of a mirror. Now that the moment is here and it's not just a fun fantasy, Castiel is terrified. He wants it, but that level of intimacy is so new, so scary. 

"Y-yes."

There's a pause. Sam is not satisfied with that answer. Castiel is supposed to say the words out loud. Sam's hand goes impossibly lower, Castiel can't tell if it's a threat or a promise of reward. He hopes it's both.

He forces his voice to work, "You said-- you told me that one day you would fuck me in front of a mirror..."

"There you go, baby," Sam husks, finally taking Castiel's half hard cock inside his hand. Sam squeezes it hard when he adds, "You still want that, Cas? Does that sound good? Gonna watch yourself ride my dick?"

Castiel whines, bucking into Sam's tight grip. "Ohhh, yes..."

Sam spins him around so they're face to face, Castiel already breathless and pliant. "Gonna let me show you how beautiful you are?" Sam says quietly.

Castiel blushes harder at this than any of the previous filth said to him. "Please..." 

Sam kisses Castiel roughly, dragging him swiftly toward their destination. There's a large full body mirror in one of the spare bedrooms they never use. Castiel thinks of it instantly and doesn't doubt for a second that Sam does too.

As soon as they enter the room, Sam positions Castiel. He's a good two feet away from the mirror, fully clothed, and looking anywhere but his reflection. Sam stands behind him again, hands creeping in slowly yet sure of themselves.

"Look."

Castiel looks. He doesn't recognize himself, however, this time it's for a much different reason than the first. First thing he notices are his cheeks. They're _so pink_. And his usually blue eyes are _so dark_. Just like Sam's get. His erection is so _obviously visible_ , tented against the thin pajamas. The sight is mesmerizing.

"Look how riled up you are already...just from kissing. This is why I had to show you," Sam explains, kissing the back of Castiel's neck. 

Castiel can't deny that seeing himself like this isn't enlightening. But then he realizes something else, something better. He gets to watch Sam in the mirror too. Castiel immediately shifts his attention to the sloppy, open mouthed kisses that Sam is leaving on his neck and shoulders. Normally, Castiel would just feel this sensation, but now he gets to envision Sam one hundred percent. 

"Take your shirt off."

Castiel rips it off over his head, revealing his chest to the glass. Sam stays still, trying to remain calm but Castiel knows he's far from it. Castiel knows that Sam nearly always restrains himself. That he's fighting the urge to bend Castiel over and fuck him face first into the carpet, skipping the show. No matter how much time passes, Castiel has come to the conclusion that a sliver of Sam's soul never made it out of that cage. That there'll always be this dark part of him that wants to simply _use_ and _ruin._

But he never does.

Castiel can't help wishing that one day Sam loses the fight. Recklessly hoping that the beast inside finally shows it's glorious face and absolutely tears Castiel apart. As much as Castiel loves making love, he also loves being used like a slut for Sam's selfish pleasure. Castiel doesn't understand why, he just knows it's the truth.

"Look at all this creamy white skin. So pale and flawless," Sam drawls, hands roaming his newly exposed chest and stomach. "Not tomorrow though. Tomorrow you'll be covered in pretty dark bruises. You like that, Cas? Like when I mark you up? Make you mine in every way?" 

Without waiting for an answer he already knows, Sam bites down. He gnaws at the base of Castiel's neck, teeth hurting so good.

"Harder!" Castiel cries out without thinking.

Sam licks over the tender area, "How much harder, Cas?"

"As hard as you can," Castiel encourages, watching Sam's eyes flash dangerously through the mirror.

Angry fingers dig deep into Castiel's torso, delivering on their promise of bruises. Sam gives in, making Castiel gasp when he feels a bite hard enough to make his blood spill.

Sam takes possession of Castiel's nipples, tweaking and pulling at them until they're fully awake. Castiel watches in awe, seeing how peaked they become just from Sam's touch. 

"Gonna take your pants off now," Sam tells him, already reaching for Castiel's waistband. "Wanna show off that pretty cock..."

Sam nips lightly at Castiel's ear, slowly beginning to drag the fabric down. Inch by inch Castiel's toned pelvis is revealed, seconds away from exposing him fully. The anticipation is making Castiel unknowingly hold his breath.

"Fuck, Cas, such a good cock," Sam praises him, once his pants drop all the way to his ankles.

Castiel can't stop staring at it. He's never looked at it from this perspective. Although it's probably not true, Castiel doesn't think he's ever been this hard before. It actually _hurts,_ the blood swollen tip crowned with a pearly white jewel. Castiel watches raptly as Sam's hand wraps around his length.

"Always so wet for me," Sam says, his thumb swiping over the head, smearing the pre-come thoroughly. He starts with leisurely pace, causing Castiel to ache even more. Sam's lazy stokes aren't enough, Castiel wants to come, he needs to relieve this pressure.

Sam presses his own dick further into Castiel from behind, instinct urging the angel to roll his ass backwards. He's overstimulated, "Sam, please, I want...I need---"

"Gonna come like this, Cas?" They make eye contact through the glass. Sam gradually pumps him faster, squeezes him a little tighter.

"Mm--ahh," is all Castiel is capable of because Sam increases his speed much too abruptly. Castiel feels his knees weaken, he's not going to be able to stay standing.

Ever observant, Sam's free arm loops around Castiel's middle, securing him in place. Castiel is immensely grateful, leaning his full weight and using Sam for support. 

"Keep those eyes open," Sam commands, just as Castiel begins to let them droop shut. "C'mon, Cas, paint the mirror...watch yourself come..."

Castiel loses it, his orgasm feels limitless, like it might continue to take him higher and never come back down. He whines as he watches his cock explode, shooting long white ribbons that splash almost artistically against the glass. Castiel also catches a glimpse of his face, mouth open, brow furrowed, a sheen of sweat glistening near his hairline. It's so _erotic_ , especially with Sam rutting his arousal into Castiel's bare crack like an animal in heat.

"Did so good, baby...so beautiful." Sam let's go of the twitching cock and brings his hand up to Castiel's chin. He turns Castiel's flushed face toward him so they can look at each other without the reflective barrier. 

Castiel notices a little of his come leftover on Sam's index finger. He reflexively sucks it into his mouth and licks it clean. Castiel doesn't know what makes him do it, but Sam's response makes him believe he made a good decision.

"Shit!" Sam groans, halting the movement of his hips and grabbing the base of his dick. "Tryin' to make me come, Cas?" 

Castiel mewls and sucks harder, a nonverbal 'yes'. Sam rips his finger away and shoves his tongue inside Castiel's mouth instead. Sam kisses him deep enough to share in the taste of Castiel's come, "No, baby, not yet...the only place I'm coming tonight is in that sweet angel pussy..."

Sam gives Castiel no time to react, breaking their kiss and stripping out of his clothing. Castiel simply gawks at him, he loves watching Sam undress. Just then, Sam forces Castiel to his knees and orders, "Get on all fours, I'll be back."

Castiel quivers as he assumes the desired position and waits for Sam's return. Through the mirror, he stares at his mostly soft cock hanging between his legs. He resists the urge to touch it as he feels it swelling again.

Sam ambles back into the room, lube in hand and hard cock freely on display. Sam is clearly taking his time and Castiel feels impatient, he wants Sam to fuck him _now._ He wiggles his ass and makes a desperate sound, hoping Sam takes the hint and hurries things along.

"Shhh, soon, Cas..." Sam soothes him, finally kneeling down behind him. His large hands grope and knead at the plumpness of Castiel's cheeks, a loving massage before he gets to work.

"Saaaam." Castiel still feels stretched from this morning, it won't take long. Sam is just teasing him, prolonging the inevitable.

"Watch the mirror the whole time...gonna show you what you look like with my tongue inside you," Sam's deep voice instructs. Castiel nods, he wouldn't miss this for all the coffee in the world, instantly hooked on the joys of mirror sex.

Sam has mercy on him and plunges forward, tongue warm and wet against Castiel's hole. Castiel never tires of feeling Sam's mouth down there, it might be his favorite part of sex. His elbows buckle under the waves of intense pleasure coursing through him. This causes his ass to stick further into the air, giving Castiel an even better view.

Sam's face is buried, hungrily eating Castiel out with generous licks and sucks. Sam's tongue is so _deep,_ and yet Castiel's rim flutters to take him further. Castiel feels his cock fill back up, ridiculously hard again.

Sam lifts his face and spanks Castiel's left cheek. The primal force behind the smack stings, surely leaving an imprint of Sam's hand. Castiel blushes harder, _another claim..._

"Ready for my fingers?" Sam caresses over the tender mark, tracing the pattern he made.

"Don't need it, want your cock now!" Castiel moans, his breaths coming in pants and his fingers nearly destroying the carpet.

"Fuck," Sam's gaze is dark, as he slicks up his cock with the lube.

Without warning, Sam grabs Castiel's hips and guides his loosened up hole down into his cock. The suddenness only turns Castiel on more, he loves being taken quickly like that. 

"Oh, Cas! Gahhh," Sam is a mess, Castiel knows he won't last long. 

Castiel alternates his focus between watching Sam's beautiful, lust blown expression and the filthy way his giant cock pounds in and out of him. Castiel's own cock weeps, but he doesn't dare go near it.

Castiel's eyes stray and take in Sam's body as well. All that tanned skin pulled taut over his muscles, flexing and extending over and over as he plows into Castiel. Castiel sighs, the angel content as he'll ever be. Admiring the visual masterpiece of the man he loves, while simultaneously enjoying the blissful, numbing sensation of being fucked. 

Sam growls and abandons the death grip on Castiel's waist. Instead, he uses those strong arms to wrap around Castiel's torso and pull him up into a sitting position. Not an ounce of hesitation, Castiel starts riding him, setting a faster pace than before. 

Sam holds him close, bodies flat against one another as he whispers, "Look at you, riding me like a good boy...such a good boy for me, Cas."

Castiel shivers at the words, another small moan escaping past his chapped lips. Currently, Castiel can't take his eyes off his own cock, bouncing erratically with every thrust. He likes the way it slaps against his stomach. 

Sam ignores it, probably reveling in the frustration that the neglect causes Castiel. He kisses lightly at the shell of Castiel's ear, "Make me come, angel..."

Castiel hums as he slams himself down harder and further, seeking that special spot. They lock hands, Sam running a possessive finger over Castiel's ring, all the while continuing to pepper kisses along Castiel's neck.

Dizzy with physical ecstasy, Castiel screams when he eventually finds his prostate, using Sam's cock as a tool to rub over it again and again. Seeing Castiel practically sobbing on his cock, about to come untouched, Sam seizes up. Biting down on Castiel's shoulder, Sam comes inside him, growling into Castiel's abused flesh.

Sam's come feels hot as it shoots deep within him. Out of nowhere, Castiel thinks he wants to keep it in there. He doesn't want to clean himself up or let it drip out. Castiel wants a part of Sam inside him _always._

However, at the moment Castiel is too far gone to communicate this to Sam. Sam lifts Castiel off his cock and lays him down on the plush carpet. Castiel is too fucked out to move, just waiting for Sam to take care of him.

"My perfect, Cas...did so well," Sam rambles, before sinking his mouth down onto Castiel's cock. Sam gets maybe three sucks out of him before Castiel is screaming again, coming violently down his throat.

Castiel literally can't keep his eyes open any longer, his body worse than jello. Sam crawls up his body and snuggles into him, ready to succumb to the overwhelming exhaustion.

"That was fucking amazing. I love you," Sam concludes, yawning through the last part.

"Love you too," Castiel mumbles, "More than coffee..." he adds with a chuckle. Sam kisses his temple and Castiel feels that sunshine smile seep directly into his skin.

~

Castiel awakens first, Sam still out cold. They're both naked, laying on the dirty rug. No shower, no blankets, no bed. Castiel breathes out a small laugh when he sees the mirror, come-stained and filthy like everything else. 

He wakes Sam up and guides his sleepy corpse to the bed, a guest bed they've never used. There's something exciting about that. Castiel goes to the bathroom and cleans himself up, bringing a warm cloth back for Sam. Leaving the rest of the mess for later, he hops into the bed and spoons his body around Sam's. 

Castiel falls alseep with a dreamy smile on his face, because tomorrow, he's going to make the coffee all on his own.


End file.
